FiftyEight Nights
by Eowyn77
Summary: Bridge between Eclipse and Breaking Dawn. The newborns are defeated, the wedding date is set. All that stands between Bella, Edward, and "a happy place" is time. Many thanks to my betas, Darth Ishtar and Tersaseda. Alternating POV.
1. Fifty Eight

Author's Note: This story will NOT be fifty-eight chapters long. That much fluff would KILL me. It will be my longest yet, though, at about half that (around 30 chapters). At least, that's the plan. :) Wish me luck!

* * *

It's not _too_ bad, I told myself again, looking at the ring sparkling on my left hand. Under the bright reading-lamp on my desk, the scintillating diamonds were almost as beautiful as he was. The thought made me smile. It definitely could have been worse. I'd expected a rock when I first held that ominous black-satin box in my hand, but I should have known better. Edward knew me better than that, and he was sentimental enough to make the symbol of our love actually meaningful instead of just extravagant. Definitely could have been worse.

I was still in shock about Renee. I was still in shock about a lot of things. Publicly announcing our engagement. Victoria being gone forever – she had been a reality in my life almost as long as Edward had been. Charlie laughing instead of pulling his gun. Edward trying to seduce me.

I considered that last one as I dressed for bed and snuggled under the covers. In some ways, it was even more dizzying than Renee's reaction to the engagement. In a lot of ways. Firstly, there was the whole wow-factor. Edward really, truly _wanted_ me. I'd known he loved me but not on the level I now knew. I could have him whenever I wanted. Just… wow.

I laughed at myself, realizing I sounded like Jessica.

Then there was the fact that he'd actually trusted me with this decision. Unlike the whole grounded-from-werewolves debacle, this choice wasn't motivated by concern for my safety. Quite the opposite. It was more about . . . what? Making me happy? Making this decision – such an important one for a couple – mine too? That felt right. Like we really were _partners_.

That had a wow-factor all its own.

Was I strong enough to make it to the wedding? Even if it was only a few weeks, it seemed like forever, knowing that was all that stood between me and him. I firmly reminded myself that the decision was made. This was too important to Edward, and he was too important to me, for me to change my mind. I was reasonably sure he wouldn't try to seduce me again unless I started it. As long as that was the case, I could make it through the next fifty-eight days. _Fifty-eight nights_. Right?

I rolled over, and my heart stuttered to see Edward in the rocking chair. Insanely, I was tongue-tied. Shy. Edward was in my bedroom, and I could have him whenever I wanted. "Hi."

"Hello." His velvet voice was warm. I wasn't sure if the seduction in it was unintentional this time or not.

Fifty-eight days, I reminded myself. Eight weeks – it was easier to think of that way. "What're you doing all the way over there?"

"This better?" he suddenly asked from behind my shoulder, cuddled up behind me on the bed.

I shivered, hyper-aware of the way his body curved to match mine. "Much," I laughed breathlessly despite myself. How in the world was I going to do this?

Needing (but definitely not wanting) a little space, I shifted onto my back so I could see his flawless face. Just like the time he first saw this ring on my hand, his eyes glowed with intense emotion and I faked a scowl. "Go ahead. Gloat."

He took my left hand in his and gently kissed it; then he turned it over and pressed his lips to my palm. "Exult, I believe, is the word you're looking for." His nose drifted up to my wrist, his lips brushing lightly over the pulse-point. "And. . . don't mind if I do."

He lifted his eyes – scorching, golden eyes – to mine and flashed a breathtaking, satisfied smiled. "To know that you're mine, that you _chose_ me, I simply cannot overcome the awe of it. I can shout it for joy now – Isabella Swan loves me!"

I laughed, more than a little in awe myself. "You already knew that. And anybody who watched us for more than two seconds could see it. Even my mom, apparently, and that's saying something."

He leaned forward until I could see nothing but his dazzling face. I had to remind myself to breathe. "Doesn't it move you, even in the slightest, to know that I'll _belong_ to you? Does it mean nothing that I will be yours for eternity?"

I lifted my chin, finding his marble-smooth lips. A jolt of delight swept through me. "When you put it that way. . ." I whispered.

He slid his arm under my shoulder and pulled me on to my side to face him, his lips never leaving mine. The delicious scent of his breath was dizzying, and I wrapped my hand around the back of his neck, trying to keep some bearing on reality. His hand on my shoulder drifted down my spine and I arched my back, finally breaking the kiss. I was panting.

"I love you, Bella." The words were almost a purr as he trailed kisses down my neck. He paused at the hollow of my throat, his own breath coming in quick little puffs against my skin. Edward lifted his head suddenly, his crooked smile making my heart thud unevenly. "I love you, my fiancée."

I tried to scowl through the dazzle but quickly gave up. He was just too beautiful, not to mention what it did to my heart when he said that stupid word with the shadow of a French accent. I did manage to murmur, "What a way to kill a mood. Ugh."

Edward chuckled, moving me on to my back again and tucking the quilt in around me. "Sleep, love. You've had an eventful day."

"And you're trying to take this down a notch," I accused, the annoyance in my tone weakened by my too-fast breath.

He pillowed his head on his arm. "Well, unless you're changing your mind," he said softly, "then for both our sanity, I think we should call it a night."

I pouted at the ceiling. "This being-in-charge-of-the-responsibility thing isn't as fun as I thought it would be."

"You're right," he grinned, enjoying himself. "Not being in charge is _much_ more fun."


	2. Fifty Seven

I stood in the twilight under the trees, watching Bella's house, waiting for Charlie's muted thoughts to drift into slumber. Already my hand was burning, remembering the feel of her skin under mine last night. She was cruel, that girl, to wear a tank top to bed. It exposed far too much skin for my self-control and not anywhere near enough for my liking.

Standing out here anticipating, it was too easy to summon memory after memory, all of them perfectly clear. Her kisses – gentle, passionate, playful. Her caresses – casual, seductive. The longing to feel her was almost a physical sensation now on the surface of my skin, a remembered echo of her warm touch. The need for her was insistent, maddening, and frighteningly insatiable. I had no vampire experience to compare it to; was it like an itch? It was nothing like thirst except perhaps in the intensity – pleasure even greater than the pain.

Charlie's soft breathing shifted deeper into a light snore, and I dashed into Bella's room.

The sight that greeted me was breathtaking. She lay on her back, one hand behind her head and the other – the left hand – on top of the quilt. The diamonds sparkled warmly in the diffuse light from the lamp. In fifty-seven nights, she would be my bride, lying in a bed waiting for me.

The compulsion to touch her grew, crackling across my skin. Slowly, I moved to lie beside her on the bed. Her hair was a halo of chestnut on the pillow, her warm smile welcoming. I took her fragile hand in mine and kissed her ring.

I meant to greet her, to say hello. I meant to keep it light. I meant to conceal the way my skin craved hers.

But Bella's wide eyes unfocused and her heart beat a seductive, disjointed rhythm in my ears. She exhaled and the warm breath she'd been holding caressed my face.

Wordlessly, I surrendered to the craving, tracing the line of her graceful neck. The relief I felt at her soft, warm, _living_ skin was heady, intoxicating. I pressed my cheek to hers and let my hand drift, following the long, elegant curve of her shoulder and then down the scorching length of her arm. Her pulse thudded erratically under my thumb as I continued to her wrist and finally caught her ring-hand.

I'd have to try again.

I pulled reluctantly away from her burning cheek and pressed her ring to my lips a second time. "Hello," I finally managed.

She took a shaky breath, a hint of a smile in her stunned eyes. "Hi." Then she nervously licked her lips.

With an invitation like that, how could I hope to refuse? I leaned forward, hesitating a hair's breadth from her mouth and drinking in the taste of her breath. Like last night, she lifted her chin and her soft lips burned mine.

Lost in the onslaught of her kisses, my very-human instinct was to crush her exquisite body to mine. I successfully repressed it. Almost. My hand on hers tightened imperceptibly. It was a new and dangerous experience, trying to repress the human in me. That thought was what finally eased the craving. What part of me was there left to trust?

Still, it was a moment before I could summon the will to pull away. Her hands raked through my hair, her sweet breath only surpassed by her sweet kisses. "Bella?" My voice was rough.

"Yeah?" she whimpered, her lips still seeking mine.

I needed to slow this down and talk about something – anything. All that came to mind was the eternal question. "What are you thinking?"

She giggled in my arms, an almost reckless edge to the sound. "Wow."

"Wow?"

She laughed again. "Yep. Just… wow."


	3. Fifty Four

I'd tried to be good tonight, I really had. I'd tried to keep it light, to keep the kisses we shared from becoming too intense. My efforts were well worth it. We'd been at it for _hours_.

Edward's cold hand was on the back of my neck, tipping my face up to his. He was still exulting; I could see it in his golden eyes. I could also see he was trying to slow things down and make me get some sleep, but he couldn't bring himself to stop. I didn't give him an excuse. I was being good.

_Too_ good.

I'd heard once that kissing released endorphins, giving people a natural high. I had quite a buzz by now. Come to think of it, Edward wasn't natural at all — he was supernatural. I had a supernatural high. I smiled and I leaned down, my lips brushing his collarbone, and he sighed with a little moan.

"I love you, Edward," I murmured against his throat. And then, because I just couldn't resist, my tongue flicked once across his delicious skin. My blood may be sweet to him, but he tasted awfully good to me, too.

He sighed again and ran his fingers through my hair, pulling me back a bit in response.

Not to be put off yet, I caressed his face, tracing his beautiful cheekbone, the slight darkness under his eyes, his brow. When I moved to his lips, they parted, and he kissed my fingertips. He took my hand in his and kissed my palm, making it tingle. I inhaled sharply.

To my deep chagrin, my body betrayed me in that moment and I yawned hugely. Dammit! "You're not boring me, I promise!" I insisted when I could finally speak. It came out sounding if I were a cajoling little girl, trying to stay up past my bedtime.

Edward softly laughed once and untwined his hand from my hair. "It's after 2AM. You're exhausted. You should sleep. Or rather, I should stop being selfish and let you sleep."

I took a deep breath, trying unsuccessfully to stifle another yawn. "No, I'm fine. I just need more oxygen. You're leaving me breathless."

He pursed his lips, and I couldn't tell if he was annoyed or trying to hide his amusement. "That's NOT why people yawn, you know."

Inaccurate or not, it was as good an excuse as any. "But I'm not done yet," I whined. Would I ever be? "Hey, I know! Kiss me to sleep."

He rolled his eyes. "Like that will happen."

"No, seriously. I want to fall asleep to you kissing me. No better way to guarantee good dreams."

"Bella…" he warned.

But I knew how to get my way. "I won't be _able_ to sleep in a few weeks, not ever again. This is a human experience, and I want it. Kiss me to sleep."

He sighed, exasperated. "I'm stone-cold, Bella. The only times I've ever successfully kissed you to sleep is when I made you faint or you were getting an IV dose of morphine."

"You're hardly cold anymore," I countered through another annoying yawn. I fought to keep the sleepiness at bay. "I've spent the last couple of hours warming your lips up for you." When he didn't laugh at that, I trotted out my ultimate weapon. "Please?"

He muttered something too low and fast for me to hear and then caught me off guard by smiling. His eyes were shrewd, though. "I'll try, but only if you help me and actually try to fall asleep yourself. The second you assault me, deal's off."

I laughed once at his choice of words — as if I could ever physically hurt him — and nodded in agreement. Closing my eyes, I tucked my hands under my cheek and waited expectantly. I was really curious now.

His almost-warm lips pressed gently against my cheek, and his voice was barely a murmur. "Sleep, love. Rest."

My skin was still acutely aware of him, but deep-down I could feel how late it was. I _was_ tired. My muscles began to unwind.

He kissed my forehead, lingering there a moment. "Dream for me sweet dreams."

I smiled drowsily, my eyes still closed. My low voice matched his. "You'll hear all about them, I'm sure."

He chuckled softly. "So I hope." His voice fell to his earlier, soothing murmur. "Relax, Bella. It's time to sleep."

I could feel his words seeping into my bones, melting away the residual tension. His hand softly, lightly stroked my hair.

"I love you, Bella." He kissed my lips, then, slow and sweet and gentle. Reflexively, my mouth moved under his, and he pulled back, his cold finger touching my lips. "Be good," he whispered.

I let out a whimpering sigh in answer. It felt good be so mellow, like I was drifting in some warm, heavenly place. The last time I'd felt so relaxed in this bed was the night before our first visit to the meadow. A sleepy smile crossed my face at the memory of my gratuitous drug use then. Remembering the relaxation trick I'd used, I whispered, "Go over my whole body."

His hand on my hair froze. "Pardon?" he breathed.

I started shaking with semi-coherent laughter. That had come out so wrong. "Never mind."

"What?"

I opened my heavy eyelids to see the curiosity burning in his eyes. "It's a relaxation technique," I mumbled. "Power of suggestion. Tell the body to relax. Individual muscle groups." My eyes drifted closed again. I usually began with my feet and almost never made it past my knees.

"Ah." I could hear the smile in his voice.

Edward kissed my brow again, his low words positively hypnotic now. "There is nothing to worry about, love. Relax." His cheek lightly rested against mine. "Feel all the stress from the day draining away."

_Stress?_ Today had been wonderful! Charlie had been at work and I'd spent the entire day in Edward's arms at the Cullen's house. I meant to protest out loud, but my lips just couldn't be bothered to speak. Anyway, it was far more pleasant to listen to his velvet voice.

"Feel how warm your neck and shoulders are. Feel yourself melting into your bed." He kissed my cheek again. "I'll always be here for you." Another peck, this time on the tip of my nose. "Always." His lips met mine in a kiss so gentle and innocent that I sighed. "I am with you when you drift into slumber and when you wake in the morning."

"Now sleep. . ."


	4. Fifty Two

A/N: I sat down to respond to my backlog of reviews and realized I'm about 2 chapters behind. I'm such a slacker. :(

So quick poll, do you want me to respond to reviews and then post the next chapter or just issue a blanket response and post? Just post? Okay! :)

Seriously, though, my apologies that I got so far behind. I promise that I'll be better about responding now that I'm home with my high-speed internet connection. (I spent the holidays with a dial-up.) :P Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed! It's your encouraging comments that keep me writing! :)

* * *

Bella was waiting for me in her bed, her hand stretched out over the covers to display her ring. Temptress. She knew what the sight did to me.

Normally.

I slipped onto the bed beside her, seeing again the vision Alice had shown me tonight. The thought chilled my stone-cold heart.

* * * *

I'd been surfing the internet in the living room for the last couple of hours, trying to decide exactly where we were going for a honeymoon. There was a private island available in the South Pacific that had seemed perfect, and I decided that's where I wanted to take her.

_Edward!_ Alice's mental wail was heart-rending, but it was nothing compared to her vision. It played out in horrific detail for both of us — Bella's naked body broken in my arms. Literally. Snapped in half. Her torso crumpled. It was obvious how she had sustained her injuries. She lay in the sand — it clung to her damp skin — and I frantically bit her, the vision-me trying to save her. Alice recoiled, instead searching further into the future. No matter what angle she used, she could only see me coming home by myself.

Alice casually rose from the couch where she and Rosalie had been watching TV and came to stand beside the computer desk. I couldn't meet her eyes. Pain, shame, embarrassment, horror all roiled in my mind. I was extremely grateful that Jasper was up in Carlisle's study reading a book. There was no way I could have hidden this from him.

_I love her, too,_ Alice reminded me. _I want to help, not make you feel worse._

I nodded, still staring at her feet. She was wearing orange flip-flops with sequins. I couldn't focus enough on the garish footwear to drive away the images she'd put into my head.

_What triggered it?_ The tone of her mind was at once somber and gentle.

I turned to stare at the computer screen. One of the pictures of the island was the scene where Alice's vision had taken place. I shuddered.

She rested a hand on my shoulder. _I haven't seen anything like that before. Hints, but not 100% sure._

I'd seen the hints, too, and they had been bad enough.

_It's probably just the island. Something about the location itself was wrong. Where is this place?_

I clicked on the link to a map, and we both noticed the same thing. The nearest island large enough to support animals I could hunt was more than three hundred miles away.

_Your eyes were black; you needed to hunt. The thirst was too distracting,_ she decided.

I balled my hands up into fists and pressed them to my forehead. I couldn't do this. I'd just have to call off the wedding, break our deal, let Carlisle change her. It wasn't worth it. I couldn't lose her. I wouldn't.

Alice saw the future shift around my resolve, and she pouted. She let that vision play out, showing me Bella's disappointment, Esme's, Charlie's and Renee's, and ultimately my own. _Okay, so the island is out, but don't you think you're overreacting? Try someplace else. New York. Ontario. Wherever._

Overreacting? After what I'd just seen, was anything an overreaction? Still, I was desperate to see another vision - any vision - of Bella alive. After the disastrous scene I'd witnessed, I decided on someplace with abundant hunting — Anchorage. I was grateful Alice ignored the honeymoon itself, focusing instead on our return home. That image wasn't as solid as the vision of my return from the island, but it was still a relief. It flickered between Bella coming home human and vampire. _I'd give you a better than two-thirds chance of her staying human. Probably closer to three-fourths. There's almost no chance that you'd lose her._

Still too high, but at least . . . I clenched my jaw in revulsion at the thought. A merciless part of my mind continued it anyway. _At least what? When I rape her to death I still get to bring her home in one form or another?_

Alice noticed the way I curled in on myself. _Do you need me to go get Jasper?_

I shook my head no and forced myself to rise to my feet. "I'm going for a run."

She nodded and smiled ruefully. _We keep each others' secrets._

Yes, we did. Even from our mates. "Thanks."

* * * *

Bella sensed the change in my mood, of course. Her smoldering fingertips lightly brushed my forehead as she swept my hair out of my face. "What's wrong?"

"Just worried."

Her eyebrows pulled together, a little line forming between them. I rested my hand on her cheek and caressed her eyebrow with my thumb, trying to smooth away her concern.

She laid her hand on mine and pressed it closer to her glass-fragile cheekbone. The thought reminded me of the catastrophe I'd seen, and I jerked my hand away from under hers. She blanched with shock and I had to avert my eyes from the pain in hers.

Her voice rose in panic. "Edward? What's wrong?"

I took her hand in mine and kissed her ring. "I just. . . I am afraid, Bella." I looked up at her again. "I've never been so afraid in almost a hundred and ten years."

"Of hurting me?" she asked in a small voice.

I nodded, hiding again in shame from her clear gaze.

"You won't." The confidence in her words triggered a memory — driving home from Port Angeles the night I saved her and her telling me I wasn't thirsty. Like then, she was both right and terribly wrong.

"I could kill you. So easily."

"I don't care," she insisted.

"Please, Bella. Let me speak." She wouldn't heed the warning — not my Bella the danger magnet — but I couldn't bear to keep silent. She had to at least _understand_ the threat, even if she chose to ignore it. I had to try to talk her out of it. "It's not just imagined danger. It's Alice. I can't tell you how many times she's seen me kill you or the number of ways. Not just drinking your blood, but _breaking_ you. I've _seen_ you dead, your corpse mangled by the fractures."

I brushed a strand of hair from her face. "Your skull."

She didn't blink, much less flinch, and I lightly caressed the base of her throat. "Your neck."

I ducked her steady gaze, my fingertips tracing her collarbone. "Your shoulder. That whole side of your torso crushed."

Her pulse reacted to my hand on her ribs, and my dry eyes itched with grief. I was telling her — showing her — how I _had_ killed her in vision, and she was behaving as if I'd kissed her. It was hopeless.

I pressed on anyway, my fingers idly wandering down her back. "Your spine. Every vertebra at one point or another."

"Edward," she interrupted, her eyes chiding.

"Your pelvic bone." That was a more recent addition to the visions. "Your femur. The ball of your hip snapped off."

She jumped in, talking over me. "How many times has she been wrong about me dying? You said it yourself; her visions are subjective. Things change." Bella shrugged, and I wanted to growl in frustration. Did she _enjoy_ tormenting me with my own words?

"Alice was wrong about James," she continued, "about us in the meadow, about me drowning."

Finally she shuddered, though for the wrong reason, thinking like I was about the nearly-lethal chain of events that followed. "We can't try to outsmart the future. I trust you, Edward, and that's the _only_ thing I need to know."

"I don't trust me."

Bella narrowed her eyes. "That's it. I'm going to chew Alice out for traumatizing my fiancé."

Even now, thoroughly depressed and terrified, the word _fiancé_ still moved me, and she knew it.

A smile flickered on her lips. "I'm keeping my side of the bargain, but it's not too late for you to call it all off if you don't want to follow through with yours."

I should do just that — tell her I loved her too much to risk killing her and move her ring to her right hand. It was the right choice; I knew it without a doubt. It would be a relief to her, in the short-term at least. Except it would be denying her the only human experience she'd ever asked of me. It would mean that I'd violate her instead of love her, if she ever wanted me to touch her again after such a betrayal. After I again made a unilateral decision about what was best for her.

I'd lived decades with a god-complex, but Bella had finally taught me some humility. _I didn't know what was best for her._ I'd already broken her heart once; she might even think twice about immortality. If she did, my Bella would eventually die thinking I didn't love her enough to put her needs above my own fears.

_Damned if I do, damned if I don't._ In the face of that realization, I chose to be selfish. Always, I was selfish with her. "I'll follow through." Somehow.

"Come here." She pressed down on my shoulder, and it took me a moment to figure out what she wanted. I scooted down beside her until she could wrap her arms around my shoulders and my head was pillowed on her chest. She held me in the cradle of her arms. "It'll be okay."

She had the instincts of a suicidal lemming. If she was convinced it was going to be okay, then we were headed for disaster.

"Trust me," she said confidently.


	5. Fifty One

Charlie was waiting up for me when I got home a little after eleven o'clock. The distrust was aggravating. As if we'd do anything in two minutes that I wouldn't be doing for the next two hours. Of course, Charlie wasn't in on that little secret. "Carlisle says, 'hi,'" I said preemptively.

He wasn't about to let me side-track him from his rehearsed script. "You're late."

"Yeah, well, Carlisle was in the middle of a story about his family history, and I thought it would be rude to interrupt."

He narrowed his eyes at me, trying to decide if I was being snarky or truthful.

Oddly enough, I was being truthful. "I'm tired, Dad." Much too worn-out to deal with an overprotective, paranoid parent.

"Okay." He wasn't convinced, but there wasn't a whole lot he could do. It wasn't like he wanted to have a big fight with me and have me move into Edward's house. "Good night, Bells."

"Good night."

I wearily climbed the stairs. It wasn't so much that I was tired as I was fried. Edward hid it well today, but every now and then I'd see the desolation in his eyes from last night. When I asked him what was wrong, he'd answer "Nothing" or, when I pressed the matter, "Just worrying." And even though I knew the truth now, even though I knew he would never again leave me and that he truly wanted me, I couldn't help feeling a cold little stab of terror every time he tried to brush me off. We hadn't really had a chance to talk about it, having spent the entire time at his place. There was so much to learn, and though I'd have eternity to get all the details, Edward had decided I needed to know more _now_, so my choice to have him change me would be an informed decision. I felt like I'd been cramming for a final. My brain ached.

I pushed my bedroom door open, and my heart flew to my throat. Edward was sitting motionlessly in the rocking chair. He never came back until Charlie was asleep; something was seriously wrong. I wordlessly turned to shut the door behind me.

Edward smiled crookedly at the sound of my sprinting heart, but other than that, he didn't move. Coward that I was, I couldn't look him in the eyes, afraid of what I'd see.

"It seems I owe you an apology," he said softly.

I finally met his gaze, surprised. "For what?"

"Jasper tells me you're frightened."

"He ratted me out, did he?" I shrugged out of my jacket and draped it over the computer chair. Edward didn't even help me with it. Yeah, I was frightened all right. In fact, frightened was a bit of an understatement. I stared at the floorboards, noticing the little chips in the finish where he'd torn them up last year and again this spring.

"His exact thoughts were, 'What did you do to her, Edward? I have to keep pulling her away from a full-fledged panic attack.'" He paused, waiting until I looked into his soft, liquid-amber eyes. "I am sorry, Bella. I only wanted you to realize the danger of what you were asking me to do. I never meant to make you afraid of _me_."

I blinked twice. "You think I'm afraid of you?"

"Aren't you?"

I snorted. "Have I ever been?"

He sighed in mock-resignation, too relieved now to be really upset. "No." He held one hand up in invitation.

I threw myself into his arms.

He held me close, welcoming me home, and I buried my face against his neck. His cool skin was heaven. I was secure in his marble arms. He rocked me, and I chuckled to realize we were both breathing in each others' scent. His hand idly stroked my hair.

After the tension of the last twenty-four hours, I felt like crying I was so happy. It was stupid. Sappy. Human. Edward kissed the tears away.

I heard Charlie on the stairs and stiffened, but Edward stroked my arm reassuringly. After a moment, his bedroom door closed, and I relaxed.

"I'm curious now," Edward began. "What are you so afraid of?"

I hid against his shoulder again, knowing the answer would hurt him but unable to think of a lie I could convincingly tell. He waited in expectant silence for a long moment then asked, "Is it the honeymoon?"

"No," I answered emphatically.

"Then what? Please, Bella."

"Well. . . the last time you got this. . . moody was right after my birthday party."

The rocking of the chair continued uninterrupted, but it was some time before he could speak. "Bella." His velvet voice caressed the word. "You know I wouldn't do that to you again, I can't even bear — "

"I know," I interrupted. "I know it in my head." I sat up straighter and pointed at my heart. "But sometimes I forget here."

"I hurt you so badly."

The grief in his eyes was more agonizing than all the pain I'd gone through. I took his face in my hands. "We were both hurt."

"No," he said, his eyes narrowing. "_I_ hurt _you_. That I was hurt in the process is irrelevant." His expression softened. "I've learned my lesson, Bella. The days of me unilaterally making decisions for you is over." Then he snorted. "I'm such a cad."

I wasn't going to let him get away with any self-flagellation tonight. "Not that I noticed."

He smirked. "That's because you're exceptionally unobservant."

Even his smirk was alluring.

And that was the basis of his theory. He'd explained last spring that it was with deep irony when he called me unobservant. According to him, I saw more than any other human, and sometimes I even saw more than some vampires — that last part was said with a pointed glance at Emmett — but he was my big exception in the same way that I was his. When it came to his flaws, Edward thought love had blinded me.

I had to concentrate to remember what exactly we'd been talking about, blushing a little to realize that I'd kind of just proved his point. Oh yeah — why he wasn't a cad. "Not even Jacob could argue with your motives."

"But he hates me for hurting you in the first place."

A shadow crossed his beautiful face — the desolation from last night again.

I tried to cheer him up. "Look at all the times things have worked out. Luck is on our side, Edward."

"It wasn't luck, it was me."

I sniggered. "Do you have any idea how cocky that sounds?"

He was not amused. Naturally. "It's not cocky, it's a confession. I've never been able to really truly make you safe. We've had too many close calls, all of them because of me. You're relying on my strength, and . . . and I don't think I'm strong enough. I've _never_ been strong enough."

I held up my hand, knowing he would see the scar James had left there. "Not strong enough? Tyler's van? Victoria? There's a _reason_ I trust you to be strong enough, Edward. Unobservant or not, those things were all pretty much impossible for me to miss."

"That's not the same."

Yes, it was. He was just being stubborn about it. It irritated me. "So what are you saying?"

He scowled at the window. "I don't know."

Edward was never at a loss for words. He was hiding, like I was earlier before I reminded him about my birthday. "Tell me." I reached out and caressed his face, turning him back to me.

His eyes tightened ever so slightly in frustration. "Could you _just once_ want something that isn't likely to kill you?"

I screwed up my face into a comic expression, and then nodded decisively. "Pop Tarts."

He stifled a snort, but didn't bother to cover up the annoyed look at my response. "Pop Tarts."

"_Cherry_ Pop Tarts," I clarified. "Those won't kill me."

"Well, no," he granted. "Clog your arteries and inflict cardiomyopathy, maybe…"

"I won't live long enough for that to matter," I shot back. "And what good are clogged arteries if I don't have a heartbeat?"

He growled, but there was no menace in it. "Fine," he muttered. "Death by gluten it is."

"Edward, I'm _human_. Getting out of bed is dangerous."

He glared. "I said likely, not possible."

"Tyler came a lot closer to killing me first." His jaw was stubbornly set, so I changed tack. "I want _you_. It's worth any risk to me."

He sighed and then glared at the window again.

"You weren't so morose in the meadow the other day. What changed?"

At those words, Edward closed his eyes as though he were in pain. "I guess I've had time to really think about it."

"Overthink it," I grumbled.

He tipped his head once in acknowledgement, his eyelids still tightly clenched.

The little fissure in my chest rippled in sympathy, and I reflexively curled in on myself. I knew it was a weak, hollow echo of what I'd felt six months ago, but it still _hurt_.

Edward caught my wrist. "Bella?" His voice rose slightly in concern.

I shook my head, trying to catch my breath. He'd never seen me like this, except maybe in Jacob's memories. I didn't want him to see me like this now. I forced my shoulders back, forced myself to lift my chin and look at him. "You're hurting the man I love." You're driving him away from me.

He read my eyes, my expression, and the rocking chair slowed to a stop. His icy fingers rested on my jaw, his thumb tracing my cheekbone. I felt a little catch in my throat when he smiled crookedly at me. "I am so undeserving of you, Isabella Swan."

"You deserve better," I answered, "but I'm glad you're content with me."

His eyes suddenly smoldered, and I could feel my pulse pounding away. "You're stealing my lines."

I tried to think of a coherent answer, but his abrupt change in mood was disorienting. That and his angelic face. And his sweet breath. And the way his eyes all but glowed with love.

I blinked and looked down. "You're dazzling me."

"Who me?" I could hear the smile in his voice.

I didn't dare look up again, but I rested my head on his shoulder, my cheek against his wintery neck. He began rocking again, holding me close. As my pulse slowed, I could feel the warmth seeping from my clothes as his cold body chilled me. It felt good; it meant he was real and here. I shivered once.

He sighed and kissed my forehead. "I'll go so you can get dressed for bed."

"Don't. Please?" Charlie was in his room, but he wasn't snoring, so Edward had to either go outside or stay in my room. "Hide in my closet."

"While you undress?" He shook his head in amused disbelief. "You're putting a lot of faith in your fiancé, Bella."

I flashed him a smile as I hopped off his lap. "I always do."

He grimaced, and I took his hands, pulling him to his feet. He made only token protests when I stuffed him in my closet and shut the door. I hurriedly changed, ran to the bathroom to brush my teeth, and returned to the bedroom. Edward was lying on top of the covers, the blanket flipped back for me. I crawled into bed beside him, and he tucked me in. He stroked my hair as I slowly warmed up under the quilt. The relief of finally talking this over made me feel exhausted.

"Kiss me to sleep," I murmured.

A soft chuckle rumbled through his chest. "You're as bad as a little kid, delaying bedtime as long as possible."

"Not me," I answered groggily. "I _like_ bedtime."

"Too much," I thought I heard him murmur. He began to hum, singing my lullaby. I was too tired to argue and drifted to sleep.


	6. Fifty

I lay on my back, staring at Bella's ceiling, my hands firmly clasped behind my head. I didn't dare touch her, and I desperately wanted to. Even if I kept things light, she needed her sleep. I could touch her for days, stroking her face, her shoulders, her arms. The skin of my hands burned with longing. I locked the muscles of my arms in place.

Alice was helping me plan the honeymoon, focusing on the locations and public activities Bella would enjoy. Anchorage seemed less and less of a possibility. It would be unseasonably cold while we were there, and the city didn't offer a whole lot in the way of entertainment. That, and there was about a ten-percent chance that one or more of the Denali clan would crash my honeymoon if they found out I was there. Of all my acquaintances, only the Volturi would be less welcome as surprise visitors. Alice was helping me screen other locations. She was also keeping an eagle eye out for anything that decreased or heightened the risk. We had improved the odds considerably.

As the horror of the disastrous vision was replaced by hope, the insatiable craving I felt for her returned.

The visions still ran the gamut. According to Alice, there was a less than one half of one percent that I would injure Bella beyond hope. A slight risk, perhaps, but still a very real one. Far more likely — roughly one chance in four — was that my selfishness would injure her so severely that only venom could save her. Though it wasn't my greatest terror, the idea alone appalled me. This was to be a pleasurable time _for her_. This was her idea, her wish. It was sickening that I would inflict such pain — such damage — pursuing my own pleasure instead of giving Bella her heart's desire. The hinted-at details that sometimes slipped into Alice's visions were much worse. A shattered hip. Snapped spine. Collapsed or punctured lung from broken ribs.

In about one-in-eight visions, Bella made it to the end of the honeymoon with at worst a limp — a strained muscle perhaps, or a sprain. Another one-in-eight visions showed a few bruises. About half the time, the injuries weren't life-threatening but were still very painful — black eyes, dislocated joints, broken bones.

Even knowing this — even having seen it — I hungered to touch her. I truly was deplorably selfish.

That was part of Bella's innocent cruelty. Always, she gave me an excuse to be selfish, from being a danger magnet to begging me to change her. She kept choosing me, even though she knew it meant risking her life. It was baffling. It would be far easier to simply surrender and give her what she wanted.

Bella rolled over in her sleep, reaching for me. She was doing it again, giving me an excuse. It would disturb her sleep to push her away. With my foot, I caught the afghan at the end of the bed and tossed it up to my hand, draping it over her exposed arm. It was considerate of me to simply make sure she was comfortable and bask in the warmth that leaked through my shirt. The heat on my chest brought back memories of her hands seductively roaming; it was as though the echo of her touches was burned into my cells.

I craved more.

I craved the feeling of her soft body against mine. I craved the little sighs and whimpers and moans. I craved _her_.

"Fish."

Oh yes, and I craved her revealing, unedited thoughts.

"Harry's fish fry. Fish fillet. With coleslaw. Maybe rice. Fish sandwiches. Chowder. Sushi. No, Charlie would never go for that."

I chuckled.

"Isn't funny."

The whole bed shook with my laughter. "Yes it is," I whispered. I'd discovered a while ago — to my everlasting delight — she could carry on entire conversations in her sleep without remembering.

"You can cook tonight, then," she mumbled.

I couldn't help myself. "Deal."

"Miss you." She sighed. "I love you, too." A pause. "Please?"

"Please what?" I prompted.

"Pretty please?"

"What do you want, Bella?"

The low, seductive moan told me all I needed to know. "More," she murmured.

My hands twitched, a burning ache creeping over my skin. So what if I woke her? The girl — the only girl in the world — wanted me. She was begging for more.

I intertwined my fingers more tightly and forced myself to be content with the warm echoes.

"Edward." She made a soft, humming sigh. "More."


	7. Forty Seven

I sat cross-legged in the rocking chair. Waiting. Fuming. _I'm not going to cry._

When Edward finally arrived with a little puff of cool evening air, I had worked myself up into a fine temper. He smiled warily.

I held up the offensive little plastic square. "What. Is. This?"

He gave me a look of perfectly innocent confusion. "A credit card?"

"And whose name is on this credit card?"

With his _superior_ vampire vision, he didn't even need to step closer. "Bella Swan."

I'd found the stupid thing tonight when I was doing the laundry and emptying the pockets of the jeans I'd worn three days ago. He'd pick-pocketed me in reverse.

"Yes. My name. Funny thing is, I never signed an application. I never even got one. And I most certainly didn't commit to a credit limit of _one hundred TWENTY __**THOUSAND DOLLARS!**_

"You're going to wake up Charlie," he warned.

I narrowed my eyes at him, all but spitting the words. "_This_ is a unilateral decision."

"Look." He opened his wallet and pulled out a credit card that was a twin to mine. "The numbers are different. I didn't add you to my account. If I had, it would have been as Bella Cullen. That's yours."

I ground my teeth. "Who signed the application, then? I called and they have a signature on record." I was grudgingly impressed. They also had accurately recorded my mother's maiden name (Higginbotham), my birthday, the name of my first pet (Goldie — The Fish Who Didn't Live), my favorite sports team (Phil's), and the make and model of my first car (the truck, and it was a good thing they didn't ask the year because I had no idea, though I had no doubt that Edward did).

He sheepishly looked at the floor, somehow reminding me of a schoolboy in the principal's office. "Carlisle."

The traitor! I blinked at the stupid angry-tears, but I was too furious to be derailed. I held out my hand. "Phone."

He sidled closer and held out his cell. Carlisle's number was programmed in, of course. He answered on the first ring. "Hello?"

"Why did I find a credit card in my jeans tonight?"

It was silent on the other end for a beat, and then Carlisle said, "I give up. Why?"

Edward tried to smother his laugh.

"There's no punch line, Carlisle. Edward says you committed identity theft to the tune of a hundred and twenty thousand."

He sighed painfully. "I told Edward to give it to you. I assumed he'd offer some kind of explanation."

"Coward," I snapped at the vampire in my bedroom.

Carlisle sounded aggravatingly reasonable. "Everyone gets their own accounts. Usually it's after they join the family, but it seemed appropriate in this case...."

"They wake up thirsty newborns and you hand them _credit cards?_"

"Well, you're the first person to join us since the invention of credit cards, but yes. Liquid accounts, portfolios, real property. Everyone gets a share."

"There's a house somewhere in my name?!"

"Undeveloped property adjoining federal wilderness areas. Newborns might not appreciate credit cards, but personal hunting grounds are a different story."

I growled into the phone. "Come to me directly next time, okay?"

"If you prefer," he answered, and I could imagine him solicitously holding out his hands.

I snapped the phone shut.

"You hung up on Carlisle." Edward sounded slightly strangled and more than a little impressed.

"I'll apologize tomorrow," I said, refusing to let my chagrin slow me down. "Tonight, I'm still pissed. Why didn't you tell me, Edward? And how the hell am I supposed to pay for a hundred and twenty thousand dollars of credit-card debt?" Frustrated, I wiped away the stupid tears again.

"To answer your last question, you're not responsible for anything you charge to that card, now or after your change. It's your petty cash account. We all have them."

"Petty cash?" I echoed weakly.

"Esme just pays the bills monthly out of the family fund, no questions asked. If you want to spend more than that, you'll have to use your own account, which I was waiting to discuss with you."

"Till when?!"

His crooked smile took my breath away. "Until after you hung up on Carlisle. Alice said you would, but I didn't believe her."

I clenched my jaw and flipped open the phone. Alice's number was right at the top of the contacts list.

"Bella, please. Will you calm down enough for us to at least discuss this?"

I ignored him.

"Be nice to him, Bella," Alice said by way of greeting.

"Not. Funny." I snapped the phone shut again and looked at Edward. "Okay. Now we can talk."

He wasn't convinced. "Can I have my phone back?"

I considered for a moment. "Not yet."

He winced slightly and knelt in front of me, taking my hands in his. "Please don't be angry, love. Alice saw you would just politely nod and never use the card if Carlisle gave it to you. She saw you'd be even less inclined to accept it from me, treating it like a gift. This was the only way I'd have a fighting chance to make you really listen to me. Please? Just hear me out?"

I gave him a cold glare.

He took a steadying breath. "It began with Esme. She was destitute when Carlisle saved her. Literally, all she had was a coat, a pair of shoes, a bassinet, and three dresses, one of which she was wearing when she fell off the cliff. She didn't have _anything_ else to her name, not a single book, a vase for flowers, nothing. Carlisle didn't want her to have to beg us for money to buy the things she needed or wanted, so he created an account that was all her own. It was the same with the rest of us. This is Carlisle's way of welcoming you into the family, Bella. You'll offend him if you refuse the card."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Carlisle wouldn't be offended at anything."

"Hurt, then." His thumb gently stroked the back of my hand.

"If it began with Esme, then _you_ didn't get a ridiculous petty cash account when you became a vampire."

Edward smirked. "That's because I was independently wealthy. Besides, I was a joint owner on everything he had back then. There were just the two of us." He lowered his eyes. "Carlisle removed me from all of his accounts during my rebellion. When I came back, he gave me a petty cash account and restored my other assets. Besides my own slice of the proverbial pie, he'd also taken care of my human inheritance for me, hoping I'd find my way home."

The shame behind his words took some of the fire out of my anger. It let me step back a little bit and see what Edward was trying to explain. The Cullens had so much money it was meaningless to them — except as a symbol. The way they were financially connected reinforced their bonds. If I didn't accept the credit card, it would be...refusing to be part of the family. "You're going to guilt me into this."

"Just trying to help you understand where we're coming from. Especially Esme. She's the only one who will know how much you spend, if any."

"Great." He was _so_ going for a guilt trip.

"Just use it occasionally, okay? You don't have to go on a shopping spree with Alice — I already explained that to her in no uncertain terms — but use it for incidental expenses. Gas. Food. A book you've been wanting. It will make her happy."

I pouted. "It'll make you happy, too."

His eyes were solemn. "I'll never know one way or the other. Like I said, it's yours." He took another deep breath. "Which brings me to the matter of our joint accounts."

I groaned and hid my face in my hands. "You're such a monster."

At least I'd calmed down enough that I wasn't crying anymore.

He chuckled and gently pried my left hand away from my face. Kissing the ring, he said, "I would prefer to add you to all of my accounts, but if you wish to maintain your independence, I can divide my assets and give you —"

"Oh, shut up." I lowered my other hand and glowered at him. I couldn't take half his stuff and keep it all for myself. That wasn't why I was marrying him. And I knew he'd be more upset than Esme and Carlisle combined if I refused to take any of his money. "I'll go to the bank tomorrow and add _you_ to _my_ account." Pittance though it was. "If you want to add me to your accounts, they're yours, so you can – "

Before I could finish the word, I was horizontal on the bed, Edward's marble-smooth lips hungrily moving with mine. I gasped in surprise, and his lips roamed to my chin and left a burning-cold trail of kisses down my neck. _Is he changing _his_ mind?_ a little, traitorous voice in the back of my mind wondered. This was more physical than he'd been in days.

"See," he murmured, his cool breath washing over my neck. "That wasn't so hard."

I didn't answer, just wriggled down so I could reach his lips again. His hunger had awoken mine, and I tangled my hand in his hair, peppering his mouth with kisses.

He froze, turning to stone under my hands.

_I have a frigid fiancé,_ that same traitorous voice wailed.

My frustration from earlier came back full force. I sat up and crossed my arms angrily. "I've had it, Edward. You're making both of us miserable." I was downright irritable without my supernatural high. Part of me dryly noted that I was suffering from withdrawal. "How can I expect you to keep up your end of the deal if you're acting like this now? You're _moping._ You have been for _days_. You're depressed about marrying me!"

"Not about marrying you, Bella. I'm just..."

"Depressed about..." I blushed but couldn't bring myself to say 'having sex with me' to his face. "...consummating the marriage? That's even worse! Don't you realize how you're making me feel?"

His brow creased as he considered that.

"You taunt me with this," I emphatically thumped the bed with my hand, "and then pour a bucket of cold water over the both of us. You're driving me crazy. Either deal or..." I almost said 'get out,' but the words stuck in my throat, choking me, "...or..." I spoke the sudden mischievous thought, "or I'll change my mind and get all this worry over with _right now._"

For once, he was utterly speechless. His stunned eyes widened — a vampire with a deer-in-the-headlights look.

"Breathe, Edward."

"I'll deal," he said softly. His eyes finally focused again, on me. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you miserable, Bella, and I certainly didn't mean to give you the misperception that I didn't...want you. That was the furthest thing from my mind."

"I know. But in case you haven't noticed, I'm not happy if you aren't."

At Edward's uneven smile, a little whimper escaped my lips. "I've noticed. And you make me happy, Isabella Swan, as I never have been before." He gently pulled me back down beside him on the bed and tucked my quilt around me. "No more moping," he promised.

I studied his open expression, gauging how much he meant it. "Kiss me to sleep?"

He took a deep breath, his ocher eyes gentle. "Yes."


	8. Forty Three

I was surprised Bella was still up and waiting for me. It was later than usual, since Esme and I had slipped away for a quick hunt. It was Carlisle I really needed some alone time with, but I would probably want several hours, and he was working tonight. If ever I needed my father's wisdom, it was now. I'd have to plan a trip with him, and soon.

Bella was beautiful beyond believing, her ring sparkling in the lamplight. She was utterly absorbed by her book and didn't notice me come in. Her almost-dry hair shifted in the wake of my entrance, and a smile flickered on her lips at whatever she was reading. I silently laid down, cuddling up behind her, and kissed her ring.

She rolled over to face me and scrutinized my expression. "So… no more moping?"

As if my protectiveness were a switch I could turn off at will. As if I would turn it off even if I could. I gave her a lying smile. "No more moping."

Her eyes were calculating. "Then what are _you_ so afraid of?"

I glared at her; she didn't flinch. "I already told you."

"You told me what Alice's visions showed you, but why do you think that hurting me is inevitable? Your thirst is under control, so that's not it." Her living skin caressed my cheek. Instantly, the memory of her every touch warmed my face. I was surprised it didn't manifest itself physically somehow, like a blush.

Her burning fingertips ran through my hair, leaving hot, exquisite trails across my skin.

"I'm just trying to understand, Edward. I want to help if I can."

I pursed my lips, and she kissed me lightly, a teasing light in her eyes. "How can I trust you with all my money if you won't even trust me with this?"

I playfully smirked back. "Maybe you can't. Maybe I'm a thorough cad who will run off with your vast fortune."

She pulled a devastatingly seductive smile. "As long as you have your way with me first…"

Images flashed through my mind, a catalog of injury and death.

She laid her hand over my heart. "No moping, remember? My panic attacks were because you were brushing me off. We need to talk about this."

"You would hear from my own lips how base I am?"

"I want to know what you're thinking. Surely you of all people can understand why it's driving me nuts."

I closed my eyes. I _was_ a coward. "Please, Bella."

"Are we partners or not?"

_Partners._ The idea was hard to wrap my mind around somehow. Physically, I was so accustomed to being her protector. In every other way, she was so far above me that being her equal seemed impossible. But wasn't that exactly what I was asking her to be? Hadn't I badgered her into being my financial partner the other night?

I wanted to be her equal. I wanted to be that good of a person. And I most definitely wanted her as my partner in every possible way. "It's inevitable because…you dazzle me, Bella."

She snorted.

"I'm serious. I can't concentrate when you're touching me."

The little worry-line appeared on her forehead as she thought this over. "But you've kissed me before. A lot. And you've never hurt me at all. You've never even come close, if you're not counting the urge to bite."

There was a world of difference. "You know my senses are sharper than humans'. Scent, hearing, sight."

She nodded.

"My tactile senses are sharper, too." I rested my hand on the base of her throat and closed my eyes, savoring it all. It was rare that I allowed myself to just _feel_ like this. "I'm aware on a very minute level of each sensation. Your warmth. The rustle of your pulse. How very _soft_ you are. The texture of your skin. I can feel _everything_, all at once in every part of me that's touching you. It's so powerful, the intensity of it." _The pleasure of it._ I reluctantly dropped my hand and looked at her again. "It draws my focus away from keeping you safe. It's distracting."

Bella studied me with her deep, warm eyes. "Is it kind of like the thirst? You didn't want to hurt me, but the intensity was enough to make you…undecided?"

"More or less, I suppose."

She looked down and bit her lip, worrying over the problem. Would she finally see? Would she understand that I was hesitant not because I didn't want her burning-soft body but because I wanted it too much?

"Maybe you could be desensitized."

My jaw locked, hard. Silly me, expecting the girl to see reason.

"It worked with the thirst," she pointed out defensively.

"It worked with the temptation, but…" I'd never really explained this to her before. I'd specifically asked Carlisle to not bring it up during Bella's education, wanting to delay this difficult truth as long as possible. Bella didn't need to know how much pain she caused me. Not until now. I didn't want her to feel guilty, but she needed to understand. My senses worked so differently from hers.

"But?"

"But the thirst is more than simply a matter of temptation, of longing. There's physical pain, too."

For a moment, her face went blank, and then concern puckered between her eyes. "I hurt you?"

"No. It's not your fault, Bella. It's what I am. I react that way to the scent of any human. Every breath is painful. Like fire in my throat."

The knowledge seemed to knock the wind out of her, and I quickly kissed her wrist. I could smell that she was crying before I met her gaze again.

"All this time," she whispered. "Why didn't you tell me?"

I caught one of her tears on my fingertip and held it up in answer.

Another tear shimmered on her eyelashes before rolling down her cheek. "It's worse with me, too, isn't it. The…burn."

Always too perceptive. "Yes." I kissed her brow. I brushed my lips over her cheek, tasting her tears. Tentatively, I touched my lips to hers.

Her answering kiss was hesitant and brief. Then she wrapped her warm arms around my neck and rested her forehead against my shoulder. "I'm so sorry."

I stroked her hair. "You have nothing to apologize for, love." I sighed, searching for the right words. Her sorrow burned me more severely than any thirst. "I only mention it now because I want you to understand that it's a bit more complicated than you seem to think. I am desensitized to the temptation, but that doesn't change the way my senses react. So when you say desensitizing worked for the thirst, that's only partly true. I have no idea if my more human desires for you could be tempered in the same way, and even if they could, that probably wouldn't affect how… overwhelming your touch can be."

She didn't answer, and I continued to hold her, letting her turn it all over in her mind. Once again, I wished I could hear her thoughts and know what she was making of all this. How frustrating that the most curious, convoluted mind in the world was silent to me!

Bella abruptly lifted her head and pulled away. "Is my touch painful, too?"

I chuckled. "Quite the opposite. But it's just as powerful as the burn. More so, in fact."

This seemed to ease her mind considerably. She was taking this revelation far better than I had feared she would. I smiled wryly. Of course she did. She always surprised me.

"So…" she said slowly, "if your tactile reactions aren't hurting you, what's to lose? I mean, why not at least give it a try?"

I wasn't about to give her the truth — that I didn't dare commit to something like that without running it past Alice first. She'd be mortified. "What exactly do you mean by 'give it a try'?"

Bella shrugged. "I don't know." She flushed deeply.

I smiled wryly. "Yes, you do."

She looked down, embarrassed and biting her lip again. The impatient seconds dragged on. "Alice calls it my happy place," she finally said, "when I'm thinking about you." The blush spread all the way to her ears. "You know, after the wedding."

Thinking about me. The longing to hear her thoughts, to see for myself her fantasies, was physically painful this time. "On our honeymoon?"

She nodded, flashing me a quick smile. "Where are we going, anyway?"

"It's a surprise," I answered smoothly. At this moment, it was a mystery to me as much as it was to her.

With a pout, she begged, "Not even a hint?"

"Nope." I liked the idea of her fantasies running wild, anyway. Too much. Far, far too much. I also knew that if she were puzzling over it, she was likely to talk about it her sleep. I couldn't wait to hear that dream.

She ducked my gaze again, her blood-warm cheeks radiating heat.

"Bella? Please." The frustration was maddening.

"Well… do you have a happy place?"

Despite myself, I burst out in soft laughter.

Chagrin flashed in her eyes and she rolled onto her back in annoyance. "It's not funny."

"Yes, you silly girl, it is." I held her close, nuzzling her hair. "I have a happy place, and you're in it. Wherever you are, that is my happy place."

"It doesn't seem like much of a happy place," she grumbled. "You're always so angsty whenever we talk about the honeymoon."

Not much of a happy place? I smiled wryly at her. My selfless, trusting Bella. It wasn't enough for me to keep my end of the bargain. She wanted the impossible; she wanted me to enjoy myself as much as she hoped to.

I spoke low in her ear. "If I were human, I would spend my every dream, my every daydream, in that happy place with you. If I could love you that way without risking your life …" It was the impossible wish. "I wanted that even when I was still undecided, Bella."

Her breath was ragged.

"But it's different for me. I'm not human. That truth taints everything I desire or do."

"Pretend for a few minutes that it doesn't," she pleaded, breathless still.

"It does. Pretending just makes reality more painful." I nibbled at her earlobe with my lips, trying to lessen the sting of the words. "I wish I could throw myself into loving with the same abandon you can. I envy you that."

She rolled up onto her side again, and the faith and trust in her eyes smote me. "Try." Seeing my despair, she added, "Try just _thinking_ that way — with abandon."

The earnest hope in her eyes was too much. I looked down. "I'll consider it."

"That's all I ask." Bella sounded very pleased with herself.

She kissed my cheek, my jaw, my chin. When her lips moved against the corner of my mouth, I lifted my face and kissed her gently. "Shall I kiss you to sleep?" she murmured, her lips brushing mine as she spoke.

I chuckled. "Like that will work."

"I could kiss you until _I_ fell asleep," she corrected. Her heart was thundering.

My hands moved to twist in her hair and I tilted her head up to press my lips to her delicious throat. "How many days would that take?"

"Let's find out."

"Let's not."

Her heart fell into a steady, disappointed rhythm.

"Not for another forty-three nights," I amended.

Her pulse picked up again, double-time.


	9. Forty Two

A/N: I am gravely remiss - I keep forgetting to give due credit to my amazing beta Darth Ishtar (Imprinted Ish on Pel's Ramblings and Thoughts Fanfic Archive). So please give a round of applause to my beta beauty Ish! She has beta'd every chapter and has helped me both stay true to Bella's voice and (mostly) avoid sounding like a bodice-ripper romance novel. :)

Also, I've had a migraine for the last two or three days (I'm losing count), so I'll try to respond to reviews for the last chapter, but if I don't please don't be offended and know that I drop whatever I'm doing and run to the computer whenever my messenger lets me know I got an email, all in the hope that it's a review. :)

Now... on with the show!

* * *

"Esme really is something, isn't she?"

I was sitting at the dining-room table, talking with my mom on the phone. I smiled at the adoration in her tone. Renee had come to appreciate Esme's and Alice's elegant tastes over the last couple of weeks.

"Edward's lucky to have her, and he's said as much."

"Good. I'm glad he realizes what he has in her." She hesitated for a moment. "So what's her story? How did she and Carlisle meet? Why did they take on so many adopted kids? I mean, she's just so amazing. Brave."

"Isn't it after two in the morning where you are, Mom? It's kind of a long story. Maybe this should wait until tomorrow. Or later today, I guess." When Edward could be there to prompt me. There were times perfect vampire recall would come in _really_ handy.

"Is it that late already?" she mumbled with a distracted air.

"Afraid so." Edward was more than half an hour overdue, and I was beginning to suspect that was because my mom was still gabbing. "We both need to get to bed."

"And you're… sleeping alone?"

"Mom," I whined. "Dad beat you to the punch and, believe me, he would have shipped me off to Florida if I weren't."

"Oh," she stuttered, back-pedaling. "I just…well…It wasn't all that long ago for me, being engaged and…"

Oh please, let the house be struck by lightning or something.

"I've got a fitting tomorrow," I improvised. "I really need to go, Mom. I'm sorry."

"No, that's fine, honey." She sounded relieved at the lifeline I was tossing her. "I love you."

"Love you, too, mom. Good night."

"Good night."

I hung up the phone and wearily climbed the stairs, shaking my head at my mother. Edward was waiting patiently in the rocker. I joined him, settling contentedly onto his lap.

"Before I forget, I need the official cover story for Esme before my mom calls again." There. Now he could dazzle me to his heart's content.

"I'll have her draft a memo, if you'd like."

I chuckled.

He kissed me lightly and then met my gaze, his expression solemn.

"No moping," I said automatically.

He flashed his beautiful, uneven smile. "No moping. But…" He looked down. Hiding. "Remember what you said last night, about being desensitized?"

"Yes." I mentally cringed, waiting for him to freak out. Here it was, finally. I'd been waiting all day for the black moods or arrogant dismissal or, worse, his backing out of our deal altogether.

"I think that it might be worth trying." He didn't look up.

"Oh." And he was announcing this to me because…? I waited, expecting him to say more, but he watched me cautiously out of the corner of his eye, probably expecting a little more of a reaction from me. This was so incredibly awkward. How on earth were we going to manage an actual honeymoon?

Trying to find a way beyond this uncomfortable silence, I asked, "Out of curiosity, what changed your mind?"

Edward met my gaze and shrugged. "I guess I had time to really think about it." Then, embarrassed again, he looked down. "It wasn't easy to decide. I've never dared to…" He twisted his face away, wrestling with whatever he was trying to say. "This will be opening a Pandora's Box. I don't want you to misunderstand if I freeze up or bolt or…or take a snap at you. I really have no idea…"

He didn't. This was actually scary for him. A horde of newborns and he was itching to fight them, but he was actually afraid of even _thinking_ about being intimate with me. I took his hand, and he paused. After a moment he looked up.

"Just try," I said softly.

Ducking my gaze, he flashed his beautiful, crooked smile. "You must understand, I'm about as repressed as they come, and not just with…sexual matters. The thirst, too, must be kept under tight control. That control must be almost as strong with my emotions. Can you imagine what would happen if I lost my temper at school?"

I tried to imagine it — Edward just losing it with all us petty, frail, foolish teenagers — and then I remembered the ice in his voice when he confessed once to having a problem with his temper. He'd been teetering on the brink of hunting down and killing people.

Mike definitely would have been a goner.

_Jacob_, a little voice whispered in my thoughts. I mentally shushed it.

Charlie, too, had been rude to Edward so many times.

Never once had he lifted a finger in violence against any human, not even that night in Port Angeles.

His little smile was almost sad as understanding dawned on my face. "I'm so tightly bound in so many ways. If I let go, I'm not sure what will come flying loose. Trying is the best I can promise."

I nodded, hiding my surprise at both his honesty and his agreeing to this. "That's all I'm asking."

Very solemnly, he took my hand in his and kissed the ring, hesitating for just a moment. When his gentle butterscotch eyes lifted to mine, my breath caught. His beautiful expression was quietly serious. He studied me, his intense stare roaming over my face, lingering on the line of my hair, my shoulders. Even inexperienced as I was, the hunger in his eyes was unmistakable.

I took a shaky breath. I could almost feel the heat of his gaze as it continued down my body all the way to my feet. My cheeks flushed hot as I wondered exactly what he was thinking and then came up with a few ideas of my own.

He looked up, his expression softening to amusement. "I love you, Bella."

Slowly, carefully he took my face in his hands. I held my breath as he leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine.

I knew better. I really did. And I tried to be good. My hands balled into fists to keep me from throwing my arms around him. But I pressed my lips eagerly against his, inhaling sharply.

Edward's reaction was the surprise. Abruptly, he closed his eyes and slowly pulled back, holding my face away from his. He rested his forehead against mine.

"I love you, Bella," he repeated, the words laced with pain this time.

I rested my hand on his marble cheek. "I love you, Edward."

He opened his tormented eyes, and they softened as they searched mine. "That's why I'm here."

"Why _we're_ here," I corrected. "Partners, remember?" I lifted my other hand to his cheek and leaned forward. His eyes widened slightly, but he quickly repressed the fear in them. His icy hands fell to my shoulders, and I barely touched his lips with my own.

When I leaned back, he watched me almost warily.

"You can do this, Edward."

"Maybe you're right," he agreed, smiling slightly. "But not overnight."

"You don't have to," I reminded him. "I'll give you another forty-two nights."

He smirked. "How generous of you."

"My pleasure."

His eyes smoldered. "Yes, it will be."

He carried me to my bed. My heart skipped and stuttered as he gently lay me down on my side and tucked the covers around me. Then he knelt beside the bed and took my left hand in his. He kissed the ring, the palm of my hand, my wrist. His nose brushed up the length of my forearm. I wasn't sure if my goose-bumps were from his cold breath or just _him_. His lips moved against the inside of my elbow leaving me reveling and breathless, and my eyes rolled back. His tongue swirled over the pulse-point — I gasped — before his mouth continued up my arm.

"Have I mentioned lately how very good you smell, Bella?"

I raised that same hand to his cheek, guiding him up to my mouth, his scent filling my mind.

He was over me, on top of me in a heartbeat, his body moving against mine in deliciously demanding ways. My racing heart broke into a sprint.

Just as suddenly, he was gone.

I blinked, disoriented, and tried to catch my breath. Edward was cowering away from me — there was no other word for it — on the bed. His back was to the wall, his hands balled up into fists and pressed against his forehead.

He was trembling.

"Edward?"

His breath came in sudden, odd little bursts. He didn't acknowledge me, even when I tentatively touched his forearm. If I didn't know any better, I'd think he was about to cry.

"Edward, what happened?"

He drew a deep breath through his nose and shuddered once, but his fists never moved from his face. When he spoke, his soft voice was rough. "I love you, Bella. Truly I do. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes?"

"Then…" He inhaled sharply through his teeth. "Don't panic, love, but I need to leave. Immediately."

The Pandora's Box. I'd pushed him too far. But he hadn't hurt me. He hadn't even come close.

"You sure?"

He swallowed hard and moved his hands. His eyes were dark. "Yes. But not for long."

Edward kissed the ring on my hand and disappeared.

Just like that, I went from supernatural high to flat on my face. I lay back against the pillow. Everything felt wrong. Backward. I was uncomfortably cold on the inside and too warm on the outside. I brushed away the annoying tears — I refused to cry myself to sleep over this — and rolled over.

It was a long time before I fell asleep.

I don't remember much about later that night. It was dark still, but I don't know what time it was. I don't remember the dream that woke me. All I remember is calling out, and his soft murmur of "I'm here, Bella."

Only then did I fall into a deep sleep.


	10. Forty One

Again, many thanks to Darth Ishtar (Imprinted Ish on R&T) for the beta! :)

* * *

I sat in the Volvo, my head resting against the steering wheel, waiting for Alice. Jasper trusted her enough that he didn't pry into why I was stealing her away for several hours last night and again tonight, but I didn't want to arouse unnecessary curiosity. A small, more truthful part of me added that I didn't want _anyone_ to know what I was feeling right now. It was bad enough that Alice could (and did) guess at my self-loathing.

_Edward, I'm ready,_ she thought as she came down the stairs. I fell in step with her and we ran through the deepening dark to Bella's house.

The ironies of life as a Cullen were many and varied. One was that I'd grown up an only child to become part of an immortal family that was huge, even by human standards. So many different personalities, and yet we coexisted remarkably well. It would have been so easy for any of us to walk away from the demanding complexities of such a large coven, but I was the only one Carlisle had ever lost.

Alice, in particular, had been a revelation. I couldn't have custom-designed a better kid-sister. Her talent was impressive enough to give me a rather well-deserved humbling, and her vivaciousness balanced my melancholy. Best of all, she knew how to love selflessly — Jasper, Carlisle, everyday humans, Bella. Last night and tonight were perfect examples of that.

It was such a risky thing, allowing myself to lose so much control, even if it was only in my thoughts, but Alice was helping me navigate that minefield. As she focused on our return from the honeymoon, I was getting a clearer idea of what would guarantee Bella coming home a vampire, if she came home at all. Touching her face, I learned last night, would be unequivocally deadly in a passionate moment. There were no guarantees yet of her coming home human. Still, the odds were better. Even before I actually agreed to "desensitize," the odds were better.

Assuming I didn't kill her before we got to the honeymoon. It was such a little thing by human standards — a French kiss — and yet so deadly for Bella. I was still ashamed that I had to run away. I was still ashamed that she'd called out "Come back" in her sleep, that I had wounded her that way again. More shameful still was that, even when I saw her writhing with the burning venom in Alice's sight, the vision didn't change until I left.

I _would_ have accidentally changed her last night. I would have robbed her of her farewells to her family, of our wedding, of the only human experience she'd ever asked me for. There were _so many_ ways I could accidentally kill her, so many ways to lose control. Again I blessed whatever grace or good deed sent Alice my way — her vision stopped me in time last night.

Barely.

However, her unique services did come at a price. "You're such a — "

"Of course I am," Alice interrupted, trying to lighten my mood. "I'm a psychic. I'm naturally a voyeur."

I sighed. It meant indulging Alice's natural voyeuristic tendencies. She only agreed to do this if I let her stay close enough to hear. It wasn't fair, she insisted, if I got to eavesdrop on her thoughts and she didn't get to hear Bella talk in her sleep. It was a line of reasoning that only made sense inside of _her_ head.

It wasn't until she threatened to eavesdrop on both the desensitizing and Bella's sleep-talking with her sight that I finally agreed to let Alice hang out near the house. There really was no stopping her once she got a notion to do something. At least she gave us privacy while Bella was still awake, focusing on her visions instead of on what was happening in the bedroom fifteen feet away.

Alice scurried up the tree in Bella's front yard and settled onto a branch that looked far too thin to support even her slight weight. "Good luck," she said softly.

I focused on tonight's choice for the honeymoon — a private villa in Cyprus — and Alice's mind wandered to September twelfth. There were so many events and choices that could interfere with a future that far distant, but the more I learned and planned, the more solid this reality became. My still-human Bella and I were climbing into the rental car to catch our flight home. The street, the gentle rain, and the surrounding houses were all relatively sure, but we were a little hazy. _I'd give you about a three-fourths chance, maybe a little less. It'll be no worse than Sydney was last night._

Last night, the danger had been here and in the present, not in a couple of months in Australia.

"Thanks," I whispered anyway.

Bella was in bed, her eyes closed and her ring glinting in the moonlight that filtered through the thin clouds. And she called _me_ beautiful; I shook my head at the thought. She was the beautiful one. Too beautiful.

Lethally so. _What a sick, masochistic lion._

Her steady heartbeat was too quick for her to be asleep, but I motionlessly watched her, vividly aware of how great the danger was to us both. Was this how human men felt near my Denali cousins? She was so frail, so fragile, and yet she made me feel frighteningly breakable tonight. It was as though I was the lamb destined for slaughter, wandering into the lion's den.

She opened her chocolate eyes and smiled. "Hi."

I slowly moved closer. "Hello." Stepping deeper into danger.

"You okay?"

Alice had been with us all day, and this was the first chance she had to mention my abrupt exit last night.

I sat beside her on the bed and played with her mahogany hair, letting the silken strands slide though my fingers. "Yes. For now." I smiled and reveled in the sound of her syncopated pulse. "I was just a little too tempted last night."

"Sorry." It was little more than a whisper.

"Don't be." She wasn't the weak one. The dangerous one.

I took her fragile hand in mine and kissed her ring, reminding myself again of all that I was promising her. I wished the vow were enough to keep her safe.

Her touch set my hands burning. I brushed my fingertips over her cheek one last time before trying again to desensitize. Gently, I returned her hand to the quilt.

This was insanity, but then, when had Bella and I made sense?

Bella's eyes were wide as my gaze held hers.

Unlike last night, I didn't concentrate on her soft, warm, inviting body or on the knowledge that she would soon be my lover. I'd already proven I wasn't ready to face that yet. Instead, I focused on planning. Alice was helping me rehearse this potentially lethal role.

I closed my eyes.

Cyprus. I could picture it clearly, the courtyard that would hide my inhuman nature from all but my bride. Our own private Garden of Eden. The Mediterranean sun playing in these same strands of hair, bringing out the auburn highlights. Her warm skin made hot under the sun. My own skin a welcome cool against the heat. I imagined my hand resting lightly on her bare shoulder. I could almost feel the way her body would lean into mine, as though she, too, craved my touch.

I opened my eyes to the dim pearl-grey light and reached out, brushing the top of her exposed arm.

The still-life in Alice's mind remained unchanged: Bella — human and without obvious injury — and I on the rainy street.

I crept over the faded quilt to lie at her side, leaning slightly over her. Even with the blanket between us, her body heat awoke the warm echoes. She turned her head, her expressive eyes following me. Tentatively, she brushed her own fingers against my face and I flushed with memory. Careful to not touch her, I rose up higher on my elbow and kissed her.

The echoes blossomed into welcome, living fire. I opened my mind, embracing it. Embracing her touch — soft, yielding, slightly rougher where her lower lip was chapped, moist, moving. So eager.

Where her living skin touched mine, I was also alive.

Her lips parted, her sweet breath misting on my skin. I wanted to play with her mouth, to tug on her bottom lip, to tease her upper lip with my tongue. I broke away, moving to the soft corner of her chin.

Her warm aroma swelled the closer I drew to her throat, sweet despite the fire. It held no temptation for me. Her graceful neck, however…

Her soft skin yielded under my lips. The movement was so fluid, so easy, like the rustling of silk. I'd never let myself dwell on the sensation before — another step into the lion's den. I kissed her again and again, down to the hollow at the base of her throat.

This was the point where I should pull back. This was when I would tuck her in and call it a night. This was the line in the sand. This is where the planning began, where I began rehearsing.

I leaned further over her, grasping her shoulder and kissing her collarbone.

Alice's vision shifted. Bella wore a sling. No plaster — a dislocation, then.

I released my grip on her arm, and the vision-Bella was whole again. I rested my head against her shoulder; at least it wasn't a break this time. Or worse.

As if that mitigated the violence.

Bella's hands played in my hair, her scorching touch tugging me away from the envisioned injury.

I would keep going. _For her_, I lied to myself. Selfishly, I lifted my head and brushed my lips across the top of her shoulder. Her quick breathing encouraged me, urged me on. I tried again, pulling her fragile, delicate body to me instead of gripping her arm.

Alice's vision showed an unharmed Bella.

_Success._ The relief was almost fierce.

Now if I could only remember that when the time came.

I decided to indulge in a little more practice; that's what the desensitizing was all about. I held her to me, kissing along the top of her shoulders to her neck, pausing to again pay some attention to her collarbone, her pulsepoint, the hollow at the base of her throat. It wasn't until I realized just how fast her heart was moving that I decided we'd had enough practice for one night.

Her eyes fluttered open. "You stopped."

I smiled. "Figured I'd spare you the heart attack that was coming." Her pulse was still wildly erratic.

"My heart can handle it."

"Maybe, but I don't know if I can." It was futile to try to blame anything on her mortality. She wasn't weak, and I didn't want to give her the impression that I thought she was. "Enough for tonight."

"Before _you_ have a heart attack?" she laughed.

Before I did something that broke my heart and her body. I smiled. "Something like that."


	11. Forty

Not to brag or anything, but this fic has been nominated for the "Best One-Liner" Bellie award in the Eddies and Bellies (www(dot)thecatt(dot)net(slash)tw(slash)Vote(dot)aspx). If you agree it's the best line there, feel free to vote for me. ;)

Again, many thanks to my beta Darth Ishtar. She's been chomping on the bit for me to post this chapter for weeks. Her contributions to it made a good chapter great. :) So without further ado, I give you The Fourth of July – Cullen Style. Enjoy!

* * *

"This is a first," I said to no one in particular. "Me climbing through Edward's window."

Actually, it was the second-story hallway window of Edward's house, but I still savored the irony.

Alice stood beside me, her steady hand under my foot to boost me up, while Edward stood on the roof of the wrap-around porch, helping me tumble out to join him. He caught me in his arms and held me there. "Maybe we should just watch from inside again this year."

"It'll be fine," Alice and I both said simultaneously. She'd done that on purpose, and I wasn't sure if she was making fun of my repeated assurances or Edward's endless worry. I narrowed my eyes at her and she flashed her pixie smile.

"It's just Emmett and Jasper with a couple thousand dollars worth of explosives," Rosalie said. She was lounging on a blanket spread out over the wooden shingles. "What's to worry about?"

"Rosalie," Esme warned softly from behind me.

Last Fourth of July had been raining hard enough that Edward and I watched the Cullen Family Fireworks Display through the huge living-room windows. This year, though, the high dome of clouds was breaking up and, according to Alice, we'd even see some stars after midnight. Traditionally they watched the display from the porch roof, and Esme invited me to join them. Edward hovered protectively, his hand never leaving my elbow or my waist, which I was more than okay with.

The porch roof offered a commanding view of the meadow-like front yard where Emmett and Jasper were setting up their munitions. Two days ago they'd made a run for the Wyoming border for a slew of fireworks, all of them illegal here. Things like aerials and firecrackers. It was small wonder that my overprotective Edward was worried.

It wasn't enough for them to blow things up on the Fourth; Emmett and Jasper had to make it a competition. Last year I hadn't seen much through the sheeting rain, but now I could clearly see both bales of hay set on their ends on either side of the front yard. The goal of the game was simple: set the other person's bale on fire. The only rule was you had to stay on your side of the meadow. A tree branch lying in the grass marked the midpoint, but I couldn't see it in the deepening twilight. In front of the bales of hay, Emmett and Jasper were setting up their offense, pointing the rockets at each other across the field of battle. Defending the targets would be much more challenging in the dry weather. Emmett was pumped.

"Um. . . isn't this kind of dangerous? Even for vampires?" I knew a little bit more about vampire physiology this year, like how their venom is highly flammable.

"Of course!" Emmett's voice boomed from across the meadow. "We had to think of something fun to do before you came along with your newborn armies."

I flushed deeply, and Rosalie hissed. Even though we'd all survived, it was pretty obvious she still resented that I'd put them in danger in the first place.

Edward gave my hand to Alice and stepped to the edge of the porch. From the first floor, Carlisle held up to Edward a huge mug of fresh-squeezed lemonade, a bowl of potato salad, and another bowl with cut-up watermelon. Then Carlisle swung up onto the roof, a plate of grilled hot-dogs in his hand for me. "Here you are."

Carlisle rarely acted so inhuman; it caught me by surprise. "Thank you." I barely missed a beat as I accepted the plate, but I think it was enough for them to notice. Edward smiled crookedly, taking my breath away.

We sat out on a blanket of our own, me leaning against Edward while I ate the traditional Fourth of July picnic fare. It was quite a spread for a "bedtime snack," somehow balanced perfectly on a downward slope along with, oddly enough, Edward's stereo system. Esme perched on the window sill, Carlisle lounging at her feet. Alice went to join Rosalie.

The combatants in the yard began putting on their protective gear — thick coats, ski masks and leather gloves. Apparently some of Emmett's hair had gotten singed one year, and he still hadn't heard the end of it from Rosalie. After all, he couldn't grow it back. Emmett, all in black, disappeared into the darkness. Jasper zipped up his coat, and knowing his history now, I realized he was dressed in Confederate gray.

"Dare I ask?" I said carefully.

"Have you ever tried to set off a fireball on the other end of a short fuse?" he teased. "I can't blame them for being cautious."

"Oh, I get the Nanook of the North look," I corrected, "but why do you have subwoofers next to the salad?"

He looked innocently towards the aforementioned speaker as if it had never occurred to him that thousands of dollars of electronics _shouldn't_ be on a roof in wet, rainy Washington. "Dramatic effect and the mayonnaise enhance the reverb," he deadpanned.

On ordinary nights, I would have been charmed by his attempts at dry humor, but I had absolutely no desire to find out what sort of "dramatic effect" music he needed to liven up a show that would have made Francis Scott Key's "rockets' red glare" and "bombs bursting in air" look like cherry bombs.

"Edward…"

"Shhh," he instructed. "You'll see."

From somewhere in the blackness that was the meadow, Emmett bellowed, "Okay, Mom. We're ready."

Edward immediately touched a single button on the remote control and some idyllic string music piped up as background music Esme hopped lightly off the porch and went to first Emmett's and then Jasper's goal. "The bales are dry," she declared. "Now both of you go jump in the river."

"Bet she enjoyed saying that," I murmured to Edward. He chuckled.

When their clothes were thoroughly saturated, they came back and Esme handed them each a lighter. "Go!"

I didn't see her fly back to the porch, but the front yard _erupted_ in color. I cringed into Edward, covering my ears, as rockets screamed and firecrackers belted out like machine guns. Some went wild, soaring up into the night sky to explode in red and white, green and gold. I tried to focus on Jasper's bale of hay, but it was shadowed as he tirelessly flitted around it, warding off the explosions.

Edward held me tightly, and when I glanced up at him, he was grinning. I realized he liked me pressing up against him for protection, and I grinned back. The music was still going, but there was some jaunty brass tunes coming out of the speakers.

"What's with the music?" I shouted. I couldn't hear myself think; even a vampire would need me to raise my voice.

"Tradition," he shouted back mellifluously. "It's the perfect mood music."

The brass wouldn't stop doing that dumb little fanfare and it was starting to sound familiar. "It doesn't match. It's too cheerful!"

"Well, for now, but even Disney songs are scary at the right volume," he pointed out, somehow managing to sound unruffled even while shouting.

That sounded more like Emmett-logic than Edward. "What _is_ it?"

"_La Marsellaises._" He grinned even wider. "It's the _1812 Overture._"

That explained it. Phil thought this was the only classical music macho enough to listen to. "But that means…"

I looked in alarm at the still-precarious position of his favorite gadgets. Then I looked at the drop to the ground. Then I finally just stared at him.

"That means I wouldn't wear a toupee on this roof when it gets to 'God Save the Tzar,'" he confirmed.

Emmett swore loudly, and I looked to see his bale of hay blazing. The game went to Jasper, but the explosions continued. About another two minutes into it, Edward made his contribution to the mock battle with his artistic heavy artillery. The cannon on the CD shook a few of the wooden shingles lose and made my ribs rattle. My hair stood on end.

Jasper's bale went up in flames a couple of minutes before the end when he had to make a dash for the river. One of his gloves had caught fire.

Silence, when it finally fell, lay heavily in the dark yard. After the brilliant light, I couldn't see anything except the smoldering remains of the hay bales, but I could smell the clouds of sulfurous smoke. My ears were pounding, matching the thrill pulsing in my veins. What a rush! I laughed weakly.

Edward massaged my shoulder and kissed my hair. "You enjoyed that?"

"Yeah." I sounded surprised, even to myself. "I guess so."

"Incoming," Alice chirped, and all the vampires around me except Edward disappeared into the blackness. "ETA is in nine minutes," she announced somewhere out on the lawn.

Feeling my body tense in fear, he explained, "Somebody called the police department about illegal fireworks at the Cullen's house."

I groaned, not needing Alice's vision to know the awful ending to this one. "Charlie?"

Edward pulled me to my feet, and Alice dashed onto the roof, gathering up blankets and my half-eaten dinner. "Don't worry, Bella," she said, "I've got your back."

Charlie was putty in Alice's hands. Only she could have convinced him that me sleeping over at my . . . at Edward's house was a good idea. It had been a bit of challenge even for her, but with promises that Carlisle and Esme would both be home the entire time and that I would be sleeping in Alice's room, Charlie had eventually caved. If we were caught with illegal fireworks, though, not even Alice could talk her way out of it.

Of course, knowing the speed at which my vampires moved, I was willing to bet that all the evidence would be long gone by the time Charlie got here. Well, most of it. "What are you going to do about the smoke?"

Esme materialized at my side and handed Edward a king-size flat sheet. "This," Edward answered me and jumped off the porch. I could see the white cloth billowing behind him like a parachute as he raced across the yard toward the river and then walked back. Creating his own windstorm.

My soon-to-be-mother-in-law took my elbow and steadied me as I climbed back through the window. "Would you care to help, Bella?"

I couldn't imagine what I could do, but. . . "Sure."

We went to the kitchen and Esme filled a serving tray with chocolate bars, a plate of graham crackers, and a big bowl full of marshmallows. To this, she added the pitcher of fresh lemonade and then she opened a cupboard I'd never bothered with before, pulling out a bottle of rum. I watched in numb amazement as she made a bowl of punch.

"I didn't know you knew how to mix drinks."

She smiled slyly. "All I need is my 'Wild Nights in Denali' t-shirt to complete the picture?"

I choked, "You _have_ a 'Wild Nights in Denali' t-shirt?"

She chortled as she poured the concoction into two cocktail glasses with little silver and gold fireworks on them and added them to the tray. "We lived with them for years. You can't stay with Tanya's coven and not pick up a few souvenirs." She nodded at a bag of Styrofoam cups. "Can you carry those, Bella?"

I grimaced. "I don't know. They look awfully heavy."

"I'm sure you'll manage," she answered with a wink. "Oh, and the marshmallow forks, too, please."

She held the door for me with her foot and we strolled together to the back lawn where Carlisle had a blaze going in the fire-pit. "Your kahlua, dear," she said, offering him a cocktail glass.

"You gave her pointy things?" Emmett scolded. "And then let her _walk_?" He was setting up for a much tamer incendiary celebration consisting mostly of sparklers. Monster, two-foot-long sparklers, but still.

I stuck my tongue out at him. "Is the Fourth of July always this exciting?"

"Well. . ." Carlisle leaned against one of the stones that surrounded the fire-pit like a ring of seats. With his partially-emptied drink in hand, he looked like a perfect imitation of a human enjoying his evening off. A casually-rich human, that is. "Before they started banning some fireworks, we'd only had the authorities out twice, when fires got a little out of hand. Since the laws were tightened, they're called to the house about every four or five years. Usually, the clouds are low enough or we're isolated enough that no one sees."

Rosalie took a seat on one of the stones and produced a package of fifty glow-sticks. With a deft snap, she lit them all up and began tossing out necklaces and bracelets to everyone. I ended up with two bracelets and a multi-colored necklace. Emmett was wearing a circlet on his head, a belt, a huge loop around his neck, and bangles on all four limbs.

Jasper, Alice, and Edward returned, Edward with a microfiber throw folded over his arm. He wrapped me up warmly in the blanket and then pulled me onto the rock beside him. The music from on high was going again but was finally turned down to a decent level.

"Okay, everyone," Esme said, passing around the marshmallow forks. "Look human."

"Especially you," Emmett muttered to me.

"Whack him for me, will you?" I said to Edward.

In a blink he was gone, and the earth shuddered as they thudded to the ground fifty feet away.

"Boys," Esme warned.

"I didn't think he really would," I apologized to her.

Carlisle laughed. "Don't feel badly. They hardly need an excuse."

Alice was braiding four strings of glow-sticks into an elaborate crown. "One minute, thirty-eight seconds."

Edward grinned widely, and Emmett was muttering something indistinguishable as they returned to the fire. Emmett lit up a handful of sparklers and gave two of them to Jasper. "You in, Edward?"

I looked up into his smoldering, ocher eyes. "No thanks," he said to Emmett, though his gaze held mine. "I have all the sparkle I need right here."

Emmett snorted, and I rolled my eyes. "That's so cheesy." Besides, I wasn't the one who sparkled. But Edward and Carlisle were both laughing. Esme was positively gloating.

Jasper had bracelets on now, too, and the two of them flew across the lawn, sword-fighting with the sparklers. The lights were off in the house, so all I could see were the sparklers and the glow-sticks weaving through the black night. I had to admit the effect was pretty cool.

Esme handed me a s'more just as Charlie pulled up. She knew me too well. I took a bite to fill my mouth so I wouldn't have to say something and spoil the lie.

My dad got out of the patrol car, and by the expression on his face, he was as mortified as I was.

"Charlie!" Carlisle greeted, holding up his glass in both toast and welcome. "Bella said you wouldn't be able to come tonight. Glad you could make it!"

"Well I . . . um … I'm here officially. Someone said you guys were shooting off illegal fireworks."

Carlisle chuckled and pointed to the swashbuckling Emmett and Jasper. "Pretty sure sparklers are legal."

"We did see some aerial fireworks over there," Esme pointed in the direction of a picnic ground a couple of miles up the road from their house.

Charlie huffed.

"Sorry you came out here for nothing," Carlisle apologized, as smooth as Edward in the lie.

"You're welcome to join us," Esme invited, but Charlie was glaring at Edward and the possessive way he held me.

"No, I'd better go see if those jokers are still over at the picnic area."

"Can you wait just a minute, Charlie?" Alice said, and then danced inside before he could answer.

"Uh, sure, I guess." He stood in awkward silence, avoiding my angry glare by staring into the fire.

I took another bite of s'more to keep myself from chewing him out.

Thankfully, Alice returned in a couple of minutes with a basket in her hand. Inside were the leftovers from my meal — hot dogs, potato salad, and some watermelon. "For later," she said with a wink.

"Thanks, sweetheart," he said, blushing as he accepted it.

She shrugged. "Sure. Anything to assist a peace officer."

Charlie's blush deepened and he bolted for the car.

The clouds broke up enough to see the stars about midnight, just like Alice promised. Edward and I lay on the porch roof on two layers of egg-crate padding from the Cullen's stock of camping supplies. I could occasionally hear the others inside — Emmett's laugh was never vampire-quiet — but the two of us were free from prying eyes at least.

Edward told me stories about the heavens. I never knew before then that the constellations were a kind of comic-strip recounting Greek mythology. Perseus rescuing Andromeda from Cetus. Orion fighting Scorpio with his dog, Canis Major, following. The Great Bear; I'd always known it as the Big Dipper.

When a falling star flashed across Cassiopeia, Edward stole a kiss. I made him repay it — with interest.

"Get a room," Emmett hollered from inside the house, and my cheeks burned. I glanced sheepishly up at the window we'd climbed through.

Edward chuckled and then softly murmured, "It's your pulse, love. You have a tell-tale heart."

Ugh! "I may be in love with a vampire, but I'd hardly call Poe romantic."

"How about kissing to sleep?"

I cuddled closer. "Now that's more like it."


	12. Thirty Nine

Thanks for the beta, Darth Ishtar! And she says, for the record, "Plashed is an onomotopeia. If you're wondering, go wring out a washcloth in the bathroom." :)

* * *

The rain enveloped us, but unlike the times when I ran away from Bella, this sheeting water didn't insulate me. My sister's grating cheerfulness reached me unhindered. _I've been watching closely the last couple of days. The path you're on guarantees you won't injure her beyond hope. One way or another, Bella will come home._

I sighed and she echoed me. _But you're still going to gripe._

"It's just not good enough."

_You've made so much progress. Besides, you're going to change her eventually._

"It's going to be bad enough when she feels the thirst. If I'm too weak, if that end is forced upon her, I don't know if I'll ever be able to heal the rift. Her last human memory of me would be broken promises."

Alice shook her head at me. "You know, I really want to be around the first time she sees herself as a vampire." _Just so I can say, "I told you so."_

"Has anyone ever told you how annoying you are?"

"Mostly they just tell me I'm right," she said with a grin.

I snorted.

"I'm serious, though. I want to be there when all this morose, brooding angst falls away. I've already seen Bella as a vampire, but I have no idea what a happy Edward will look like."

"Optimist," I grumbled.

"Promise me," she persisted with a smirk. "Or I'll tell her about our odd little, paranormal three-some."

"You wouldn't dare."

She gave me a stone-cold, stubborn glare, letting me see in her mind just how utterly unscrupulous she was. "Fine." It wasn't that much of a concession to keep all this a secret. I mockingly lifted my hand in the Boy Scout's pledge. "I promise you can be there the first time she sees herself after the change."

"Thank you," she primly answered and scurried up the tree. Seeing what I was about to do, she closed her eyes and focused on running stock-market predictions. Under the shelter of the eaves, I quickly changed out of my wet clothes into the spares I'd brought along. I would be cold enough to Bella's touch as it was. No sense bringing the storm in with me.

"Alice."

She looked at me again and I tossed her the backpack, now filled with damp clothes. Staying out of the rain as much as possible, I jumped up and climbed through Bella's window.

The room was empty; Bella was still in the shower. I lay on her bed, feeling guilty.

The warm, dry weather had broken this evening with a massive thunderstorm. Of course Emmett wanted to have some fun with it, so we brought Bella along to see a game of football the way it was meant to be played. Unfortunately, she got drenched on the run to my house afterward. Alice "just happened" to have a stash of clothes that fit Bella, but she was still very chilled by the time I got cleaned up and brought her home about 11:30. She was showering now to warm up. I truly hoped she wouldn't get sick after being exposed to the elements like that. It was unforgivably thoughtless of me.

Alice had peeked ahead for me earlier and didn't foresee Bella getting sick. Her vision had brought me down from panic to mere worry.

That wasn't what I was feeling guilty about, though.

There were two reasons I gave Bella some space to get ready for bed in the evening: hot water and bare skin. I might not know what she would look or feel like in the shower, but as I lay in her dark room now, I was half-way there. Her scent, mingled with soap and strawberry, was borne on the steam that crept under the bathroom door. It quickly saturated the entire upstairs. And I could hear her — clearly enough that not being able to see her wasn't much of a limitation.

With the faint scraping of a shampoo bottle on the edge of the tub, I could envision her bending over to place it there. The pattering of the water changed as she moved beneath it, louder as she stepped toward the back of the tub and muted — rolling over her skin — when she stepped into the stream.

It was all I could do to keep myself from bursting in on her. Devious little thoughts tempted me. I moved so quickly, I could probably be in and out of the bathroom without her ever realizing. Just long enough to give my imagination something more _visual_ to work with.

These were not the thoughts of a gentleman; they were exactly the sorts of thoughts I kept firmly bottled up when I could and fled from when I couldn't. I tried to believe it wasn't wrong for me to be here, but I couldn't help feeling that I'd gone from a crabby old man to a dirty one. _I'm not a peeping tom_, I told myself. _I'm an eavesdropping Edward trying to desensitize._

Bella turned the protesting, ancient faucet handles. Now it was just the very _moist_ sound of her feet shifting on the bottom of the tub. Water plashed loudly as she wrung out her hair. Rattling and scraping accompanied her pushing back the shower curtain. The hideous shag rug on the bathroom floor sighed as she stepped onto it.

It was a good thing Alice couldn't read minds, or she'd whack me for envying polyester.

The sound of soft terrycloth caressing Bella's skin very nearly brought me out of the bed. Thirty-nine nights from now, I could be in there with her, running a warm towel all over her. There was a swishing sound as Bella wrapped her damp hair in the towel, and then the rustling of stretch cotton as she dressed.

I closed my eyes. Heaven help me.

The floorboards creaked under the worn linoleum as she shifted from one foot to the other, putting on her panties. The towel swished again and then fell to the floor with a damp, soft thud. Her tank-top scraped over her arms and shoulders, and she seemed to wrestle with it a bit; the shirt was probably clinging to her still-moist skin. And then the long, rough slide of flannel pajama pants up her delicate legs.

In two minutes, she would step through that door; I needed to settle down. Bella unwittingly came to my aid by brushing her teeth. The soft pop of her opening her deodorant helped immensely, too. I shook my head at the idea of _anything_ covering up her scent to me.

With an exaggerated sigh, Alice pulled her mind away from Euros and yen and turned her attention to helping me. Tonight, the plan was for a honeymoon of nocturnal port-hopping throughout the Gulf of Mexico with a luxury yacht. There was no way I would travel by land through Mexico or the Caribbean with Bella. Taking my bride the danger-magnet through the territory of the Southern covens was not my idea of a good time.

Even sticking to the water, I was reluctant to go even that close to a vampire war zone, and I'd had to do some extra planning to make that future recognizable. I'd chosen an air carrier and made plans right down to the flight number. I'd even picked out the order of our destinations and coordinated ports of call with any rainy day Alice could find, though we returned home a little earlier from this honeymoon possibility to avoid a hurricane. Despite all that, it was still a pretty tentative future.

The door swung open, and Bella walked in, her hair wrapped up in the towel. She smiled in pleasant surprise and set her bath things on the dresser. "Hi! I didn't expect you so early."

I watched her, too aware even from here of the sweetly-scented warmth rolling off her. I was not ready for her to join me in bed. Not if I was planning on being a gentleman.

I swiftly sat up at the foot of the bed, my legs stretching out toward the middle of the room. "Charlie's already asleep."

"Oh." She shook out her hair and briefly toweled it dry. Picking up a brush, she came to sit cross-legged on the bed facing me. "That game was something else. I'm not sure that even as a newborn I'd want to play football with Emmett."

I chuckled and took the brush from her scorching hands, moving to stand behind her. It was impossible, here in the aura of her warmth, to completely push aside my earlier mental images. Still, I tried to _pretend_ I was still being a gentleman. "I'm surprised you were able to pay attention to any of it."

Alice had sat out, ostensibly to make the teams even, but had spent the entire time discussing plans for the wedding reception. She needed Bella's preference on the more human aspects, like the flavor of the cake and what type of wine she wanted for the toast. Bella protested adamantly at that one, reminding Alice she was underage. That had annoyed Alice to no end. She'd even tossed around the idea of moving the wedding to someplace with more reasonable liquor laws, but Bella had held firm.

Her off-hand comment had cost us the game. I was distracted from Carlisle's pass by the epiphany that Bella really was still a child, even by human standards. In this place and time, she was too young to toast our marriage with champagne, but here she was marrying me. The realization was still hard to wrap my head around.

"I'm sorry about Alice pestering you. I should have come to run interference for you." I gathered Bella's warm, wet hair into my hand and ran the brush through it, beginning at the bottom like Alice always did.

Bella shrugged. "You were busy elsewhere running interference. Besides, I have to learn to stand up to Alice eventually. I'm not going to spend eternity being badgered into Bloomingdales."

_Badgered!_

To Bella, I said, "Umm…You have a very fuzzy picture about life as a Cullen then." Too low for her to hear, I muttered, "Focus, Alice. You promised a _little_ privacy." I treated her to a vision of me forcibly relocating her.

She grudgingly returned to an almost-full moon over the Caribbean. In the vision, we were docking in Cozumel to catch our flight home.

Bella chuckled. "As long as you're my shopping buddy, then I think I can endure it."

"I thought that was a girl's outing thing." The only reason I'd tolerated Alice dragging me into various stores for so long was because I wasn't lucky enough to have a female partner to send in my place.

"Nope. Our new wedding vows will say 'till shopping do you part.' I'm taking you down with me."

I rolled my eyes. "Ugh. Is it too late to renegotiate this marriage thing?"

She snickered at my impression of her whining and rose up on her knees to turn around, bobbling on the edge of the bed. I steadied her, and she grinned up at me mischievously. "Not a chance," she answered in a deep, sultry voice.

Is that what she thought I sounded like? It was rather flattering. I didn't think she sounded much like me, but I very much liked the result.

This was too much like our role reversal a few weeks ago in the meadow. Giving up on being a gentleman, I snatched her up and tumbled into bed with her, giving her my best persuasive smile. "You sure?"

Her eyes unfocused and I sat back just enjoying the sound of her thudding heart and rasping breath. Sure I could stop runaway vans and stare down werewolves, but _this_ was a super-power.

"Um." She blinked several times. "Dress is already made? Alice's is on order. Invites are being printed." She sounded increasingly coherent and sure of herself. Finally her eyes focused on my face again. "About the only thing still up in the air is rehearsing for the honeymoon."

I gave her a half-smile that sent her heart aflutter again. "We'd better get cracking, then."

"Guess so." Her burning hand caressed the back of my neck, but there was still an impish light in her eyes. "Slacker."

I leaned closer, hesitating half an inch from her lips, our breath mingling into a scent all its own. No witty rejoinder came to mind, all I could think of was the heat radiating from her face, the way she moved with a human slowness that was almost deliberate — lifting her chin, pressing her lips to mine.

The earlier images returned. I could envision it so easily, Bella wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around her in front of the mirror. Except this time I was there, standing behind her, running my hands down her still-damp arms. Letting my hands rest on her hips. Pulling open that towel…

I instinctively recoiled. It was beaten into me by months of restraint followed by months of resisting returning to her followed by months of worry. So many reasons to _not_ imagine what would follow next, and they all were essentially one: protect the girl.

I would have smiled, were I not so absorbed by her touch, by the fantasy that I couldn't dislodge from my mind no matter how hard I tried. _You're making it shockingly difficult._

Thankfully, Alice had kept her vision tightly centered around September ninth through all that, even though that future had thinned and almost faded.

Pulling away, I caught Bella's hand and kissed her ring. Slowing things down. Clinging again to the promises that were made already in my heart. I would not hurt her.

It was time, as she said, to get to work. I _was_ being a slacker.

Last night we'd had even more of an audience than we did now, but the night before had been focused on her shoulders. Tonight my assignment was her torso, especially her ribs. They were just so _frail_, a glass-fragile cage that held her heart but did almost nothing to protect it. Building on what I'd learned two nights ago, I slid my hand over her ribs to her back and carefully pulled her to me, spreading out the pressure as much as possible by using my entire forearm instead of just my hand. The trick, it seemed, was to keep the pounds per square inch to a minimum.

This was coming easier — Bella remained whole in the vision. And it was solidifying.

A flicker.

So quickly I barely caught it, a different future slipped in between the images Alice was showing me. It was almost like the annoying subliminal messaging they sometimes used to put in the old filmstrip movies, only much, much quicker. It was a faint, transparent still-life, almost like a faded photographic slide of our front room. Its presence was disturbing, but one image stood out as downright shocking. The best description I could give was that of an impressionistic painting of Bella in some kind of loose, bulky clothing. I knew it was supposed to be her, but trying to focus almost hurt. She was clutching her side — I thought.

Before I could do little more than register it, it was gone.

In vision, Bella accepts my steadying hand as we walk down the twilit, Mexican sidewalk to meet our cab. Her movements are careful, as though she were healing from an injury, but there were no visible signs of trauma — casts, slings, crutches.

The odds were improving. I wondered what decision would lead to the odd, half-impressionist future but decided it was too slim of a chance to worry about. She was human in it, apparently, and so even if it did become more solid, it was still preferred over some of the more-likely possibilities.

Now that she was firmly pressed against my chest, Bella nuzzled my neck, her lips brushing along the bottom of my chin, burning away my worry. I shifted, moving my arm down one rib. This one was thinner, more breakable, but her kisses were irresistible. I risked dividing my attention. After all, I would be hopelessly distracted when the moment finally came — better to practice now when I would have some warning if I were going to hurt her.

Carefully, I pressed my lips to her forehead. She squirmed up to reach my mouth and I rocked back under her assault. Her hands, lips, body radiated warmth. In Bella's embrace, I happily burned.


	13. Thirty Five

Many thanks to my betas Darth Ishtar and Tersaseda!

Once again, real life has obnoxiously intruded on my imaginings in the Twilight universe. I was hoping to get caught up on responding to reviews, but yet again I find myself overwhelmed. I promise to do better now that midterms are over (at least until finals). ;) Please, please, please forgive me! In earnest of my apologies, I'm posting 2 chapters this time. :) Happy reading!

* * *

I sighed. It was after midnight, but I still couldn't sleep. Edward was away hunting.

This was sooner than usual since his last hunt, but I was grateful he was going. I winced, remembering again how long he'd suffered without a word. He _should_ hunt more often — I wanted him in as little pain as possible — but my bed was just too warm. After that freak storm before the battle in June, the summer had heated up. Even the thunderstorm last week hadn't cooled us down, really. It just made it muggy. Of course Charlie hadn't ever installed an air-conditioner. Who would, in Forks?

Edward and Carlisle left before dinner to go to British Columbia for some father-son bonding time ahead of the wedding. Edward had announced this with such a somber expression that I half-wondered if he was expecting Carlisle to torment him with "The Talk." You'd think Carlisle would know better. How many times had Edward been through high-school sex-ed classes? And then there were the medical degrees that would explain the mechanics if nothing else. And siblings who, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't completely block out.

I tossed and turned under the sweltering sheets and finally kicked them off. I didn't bother to be super-quiet with Charlie's snores drowning out the creaking floorboards. First I went to the bathroom and soaked a washcloth in cold water, using it to bathe my arms and the back of my neck. Then I returned to the bedroom and switched on the desk lamp, rummaging through my CD's for the one Edward made me. I put the lullaby on repeat and settled in.

With that perfect reminder of Edward, I finally fell asleep.

Cold arms grabbed me and a hard hand covered my mouth. Reflexively I jumped and struggled, realizing a half-second later that, first, it was futile to fight a vampire and, second, I didn't want _this_ vampire to let go. I did manage to squirm around to face him. He was smiling crookedly. "You scared me, Edward!"

"Then tonight's a first," he answered, amused.

My heart was still hammering with adrenaline. Was it the thrill of fear or just being with Edward again?

He pressed his face to my hair, inhaling deeply, and nuzzled my neck. I wriggled in delight when his cold lips brushed the hollow behind my ear.

"Ow!"

Edward lifted his head, his expression innocently blank. "Did I hurt you?"

"No." I rubbed the spot absently. "Surprised me, mostly." It had felt almost like he playfully bit me. My brow furrowed, confused. There wasn't the blood or venom that would inevitably follow his razor-sharp teeth on my skin. Still… "Did you _bite_ me?"

His eyes tightened mischievously. "Nope. Just pretending."

_Pretending?_ Cautious, anxious Edward _pretending_ he was biting me? What the crap?

He nipped at my neck this time. I squirmed away, swatting at him. It didn't feel unpleasant. Just… sharper. "What are you doing?" I laughed.

He caught my left hand, kissed the ring, and then nipped at my wrist. He was lightly pinching my skin with his lips. My hand twitched away like he was tickling me.

Edward caught my other hand and growled playfully. "I'm not through yet." He kissed my pulse-point and nipped at me again.

Something between a yelp and a giggle escaped my lips. "Knock it off! We're gonna wake up Charlie."

"Not a chance," he rumbled, mocking my imitation last night. "He's dreaming about fishing."

I scowled at him and he leaned in, kissing my lips almost aggressively. For a stunned heartbeat, I lay helpless on my pillow, and then I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer. His lips followed the line of my jaw to the hollow behind my ear and then down my neck. My pulse rang in my ears. My heart sang. His lips slid over my feverish skin and then nipped me. This time I did yelp.

I shoved him away, laughing and incredulous. He comically flailed and then fell off my bed. I cringed, waiting for the thud that would bring Charlie running, but there wasn't so much as a whisper. Leaning over, I could make out his dim shape against the pale floorboards. He was stretched out on his back with his hands behind his head.

"What has gotten into you?"

He considered for a moment. "Catnip?"

Catnip? "You're a vampire, not a tabby!"

"I caught a mountain lion on catnip?"

I hit him with my pillow. "Who are you and what have you done with my…Edward?" You'd think after three weeks of being publicly engaged, I'd be able to _say_ the word 'fiancé.'

His voice was full of surety. "He got eaten by the mountain lion on catnip."

I rolled onto my back, staring at the ceiling. This was just too weird. I would have thought I was dreaming, but Edward had quite thoroughly pinched me awake.

"I told you you're like heroin," he said, kneeling beside the bed and smirking. "I'm on a good trip for once."

"Did you and Emmett do a brain-swap or something? Your mood swings are giving me whiplash. I want my Edward back!"

"Oh." He looked crestfallen. "Which Edward would that be? The moping one? Obnoxiously overprotective? Thirsty? Maddeningly curious?"

I grimaced. "Can't we strike a balance?"

"A compromise?" he suggested… suggestively.

I swung at him again with my pillow but he dodged this time.

"All right, then, miss," he said with a businesslike air. "How would you like your Edward this evening?"

I rolled my eyes. "How about affectionate with a dash of good mood. _Hold the catnip_."

"For dessert, might I recommend kissing to sleep?"

I laughed despite myself. "Sounds delicious."

He materialized on the other side of me, a slight smile on his lips and deep humor in his eyes. "Order up."

He brushed my cheek with the back of his hand.

I stared cautiously, my mind boggling.

He searched my eyes, his lips twisting slightly in puzzlement. "You didn't like that," he guessed.

"Not really. You were reminding me too much of Emmett. It's like kissing your brother."

He chuckled. "Having never kissed Emmett, I'll take your word for it."

"That's not what I…" I narrowed my eyes at him. "What's wrong with you, anyway?"

He shrugged, looking embarrassed. "I was…" He looked down, tipping his head a little. "I was trying for a different mood, one that wasn't likely to turn deadly. For a change."

"Nipping at me wasn't likely to turn deadly?"

He smiled but it didn't reach his eyes. "Believe it or not, Bella, it was easier than desensitizing."

I considered that as his icy fingers caressed the lines of my face. Pretending to bite was easier than kissing. My scent made his throat feel like it was on fire; kissing was worse than that? I couldn't wrap my mind around it, somehow.

Before I could ask him about it, he not-so-subtly changed the subject. "How was your evening?"

"Too warm." I appreciatively snuggled closer to him, shelving this new worry for now. "I couldn't sleep until after midnight."

"I'm sorry I woke you, then," he said, chagrined, but he pulled me against his cold chest. "I just assumed you would turn in early."

"I don't mind. I missed you."

His chill lips trailed along the line of my jaw. Silly how that single gesture left me breathless. "And I you." Inhaling deeply, he leaned away enough to meet my gaze. "Do you want me to kiss you back to sleep?"

I half-laughed and rolled up onto my elbow to give him an encouraging kiss. "Only if you plan on it taking eighteen hours. Your little stunt gave me quite a jolt."

Edward gently rested his cheek against mine. His cold, whispering breath made me shudder in delight. "I think I'd rather enjoy that."

We both knew Charlie would wake up in another hour or so. I could get quite a buzz in an hour, though. I smiled against Edward's lips at the thought.


	14. Thirty Four

I glowered at Alice as she packed a book and her iPod in a small, black-leather backpack.

She pointedly ignored my glare. _Trust me, this is an overreaction._

"Considering what almost happened that first night, I'm hardly overreacting." I shuddered to think of what I would have done without Alice's warning vision. At least I hadn't endangered her life since. "And you're useless to me if you're distracted."

She slung the pack — it looked dainty even on her — onto her shoulders. "I'll be focused on visions while she's awake, but I get bored waiting for the sleep-talking to start."

We ran down the stairs and out the back door; I slackened my stride to keep pace with her. "You could have left once she was unconscious."

"Then I would have missed her rant last night." _You're right. It's a kick to hear what she's REALLY thinking._

Asking Alice to stay close enough for me to eavesdrop on her visions was a double-edged thing. It was invaluable as I…imagined with abandon to have the constant feedback. I shuddered at the memory of that single close call. Having Alice along was definitely _not_ an overreaction. But then there was the kid-sister factor.

Alice sniggered. _Are you sure she's as innocent as you think? I mean…_

"Maybe you're right; maybe I _am_ overreacting. Maybe you should go home."

_All right. Fine. I'll just do my best to ignore the running commentary that would make _Tanya_ blush._

"It wasn't anywhere near that bad. You just have a dirty mind."

It wasn't unusual for Bella to talk about cooking. And it _was_ summer, the season for grilling. Really, Alice was just being immature. I wondered if she would have reacted differently if Bella had been sleep-talking about fish instead of _sausages_. After putting up with Alice's mental sniggering for a minute or two last night, I'd tried to change the subject of Bella's babbling, but it had backfired and she had gotten in a tiff about something lemony and _exotic_ — I never did figure out exactly what. That's when I finally decided to wake her up.

Then again, maybe Alice wouldn't have reacted any differently. I did my best to banish thoughts of trout and innuendo.

Alice ran up the tree and settled in with her iPod and headphones.

I narrowed my eyes at her. "No snarky, off-color thoughts tonight."

She saluted and then stuck her tongue out at me.

Sisters. Kid sisters. There were times I envied Bella her only-child status.

_Lighten up, Edward. You're not going to hurt her tonight. And I'll be good. I promise._

"Starting now," I growled softly, too low for Bella to hear.

She closed her eyes with a chipper, _I'm here to help_, and her mind wandered the paths of the future to London in early September.

Annoying as she was, I really did owe her. "Thank you."

She didn't answer, drifting deeper into vision.

I dashed into Bella's room.

She was sitting cross-legged on the bed with her back to the wall. She smiled almost shyly and patted the blanket beside her when she saw me. "Hi."

"Hi." I cautiously moved to sit with her. Something big was on her mind.

I waited with ill-concealed impatience as she first played with a strand of hair and then bit her lip, twisting her ring on her finger. Finally I took her fidgeting hands in mine and she looked up at me.

"Are you going to make me ask?"

She smiled, but it faded. "I'm so mean to you."

I cupped her face in my hand, and instantly I was aware of her radiant, living skin. "It's not your fault I can't read your mind."

"No, that was what I was thinking. I'm mean to you."

Appealing, humbling, beautiful, yes. But never once, in all the time I'd known her, would I describe her as mean. Even in the minds of all those who knew her, she was never considered mean. (The only exceptions were some ignorant werewolves who were defensive of Jacob and whose prejudiced opinion didn't count in my book.) "I don't understand."

She looked down again, playing with her ring. "You don't want to do this — the whole desensitizing thing. I'm making you miserable. And I'm not happy if you aren't."

The girl was going to drive me mad. Wasn't it bad enough that I couldn't hear her incomprehensible thoughts? Did she have to be so utterly unpredictable? She begged me to change her immediately and then demanded sex first. She came up with a surprisingly effective way of improving her odds of surviving, and now she was offering me the option of backing out. Entirely? I doubted it. Still, the right thing to do would be to press my advantage here, to manipulate her guilt into letting me change her before the honeymoon.

I tipped her chin up, and the heat of her skin burned life into mine. The thought of losing her, of losing my chance to experience her living skin _everywhere_ was agonizing. Impossibly, she was reshaping my stone body minute by minute. I could feel the echo of her every touch scorching across my face and neck and chest. The selfish thing would be to continue, to capitulate, to desensitize — deadly though the whole process may be.

The right thing had nearly ruined her — I chose to be selfish. "I want you to be happy, Bella, and I'm not happy if _you_ aren't."

Tears sparkled in her deep eyes. "You said nipping is easier than desensitizing, and that first night, you were twitching like a squished spider."

I laughed at the analogy. "Was not."

"Were too." She was trying to smile, even as the tears spilled over. "You just needed a few more appendages."

I kissed her tears, the hot, sweet nectar burning deliciously on my tongue. "Even if you're right, I'm a little more resilient. Fortunately."

"My point is I was the one hurting you. I can't stand that."

"No, Bella." How was it that, in that mysterious brain of hers, my mistakes always got twisted around into her faults? "You weren't the one hurting me."

"I asked you to do something that would hurt you." She picked at a loose thread on the quilt.

I sat there, thunderstruck. Why hadn't I thought of this sooner? Of course I couldn't talk her out of her insane desires by explaining the risk to her, but she would do anything, _anything_, to spare me pain or grief. Here she was, handing me the answer on a silver platter.

So cruel — because I'd already begun to imagine. I'd let myself feel her kisses and picture her bare skin. Sunlight to city lights, tundra to desert, I'd imagined myself making love with her. I was _planning_ it, orchestrating every moment. That was the whole reason Alice was sitting in a tree right now, so I could plan.

I could wait. It would only be another year or so, until her newborn thirst ebbed. One little year, I firmly told myself, nothing to an immortal waiting for his soul-mate.

I didn't have to imagine how she would look then — my memory of Alice's initial vision was still perfectly clear — cold as death with unreadable, scarlet eyes. So often I'd assured Bella that she would be herself again eventually, and she would be, I had no doubt. But how long would it be? How long would the memory of _my_ venom burning through her bones make her hate me? How long before she could be rational about me holding her while she screamed and begged for death?

Ninety years, I'd waited for her; I would wait for however long it might be.

My stone heart sank as I made the first right choice since before the meadow. "And you don't think it will hurt me if I hurt you?"

Bella's expression was a mixture of affection and dismay. "You _won't_ hurt me, Edward." Her lips turned up slightly. "And why does it always end up being all about _you_?"

I narrowed my eyes at her, but she inched closer. "I was just trying to help, and it's ending up hurting you. I'm sorry. Don't try to desensitize."

As if it would be less painful if I killed her on the honeymoon. As if it would be easier then without the practice I was getting now.

She leaned nearer, her warmth rolling over my face, awaking every remembered touch. "I trust you to be strong enough, so just enjoy the time we have now. Don't worry about the future — you worry too much anyway." Her moist lips caught the corner of my jaw. "Desensitizing is just borrowing trouble."

I gathered her onto my lap, leaning the back of my head against the wall, giving her more access. Already my breath was quicker. Her fragile arms encircled my ribs. It was so easy now, with the warmth burning through my shirt, to imagine away the clothes between us. "I can't go back, Bella. That's the nature of a Pandora's Box." She had set the demon loose.

She lifted her head, eyes sparkling with amusement. "Are you saying it's too late?"

Exasperating girl. "Yes and no. I could try to stop thinking with abandon, but the one thing left in Pandora's Box was hope. I've found a hope that I'm not willing to give up."

Her eyes widened with genuine surprise.

"I think desensitizing will help. And despite what you think, it won't hurt."

"Squished spider," she obstinately repeated.

"It was shock, not pain, and it won't happen again." I wouldn't be surprised next time. "My control is improving already."

"Really?" Her eyebrows lifted in tentative hope.

"Yes."

She grabbed two fistfuls of my shirt, straddled me, and sealed her mouth to mine. I would have laughed at her enthusiasm if I wasn't overwhelmed by the feeling of her body pressing against me. For three crystalline seconds, I embraced the barrage of sensation.

Urgent and so _soft_, her lips moved over mine, burning life into the surface of my skin. My stone cells absorbed her warmth, leaving a brand that would haunt me when I craved her later.

Her scorching hands moved on the back of my neck and through my hair. I could feel the supple surface of her skin reshaping around my stone contours. I could feel her pulse pounding against me through the thin membrane of her thumbs.

The feather-light, insistent pressure of her knees on my hips was new. Warmth, low-burning instead of her skin's scorching, sank through my clothes.

Before that thought could go any further, I reached for her face to carefully pry her away. Her skull, crushed in my palm — the remembered image flashed through my mind; I braced my hands against her shoulders instead.

Proof positive the desensitizing was working.

Hurt flickered in her eyes, and I slid my hands up her shoulders to her neck, letting my thumbs meet and trace lightly up the front of her throat. Her eyes rolled back and she lifted her chin.

"I said improving, Bella, not perfected."


	15. Thirty Two

Author's Note: Another fluff and fun chapter! :) Sorry it's been so long. Real life kind of ran away with me. I'll try my best to update more often, but for the record, you have geophf to thank for this update. I told him I'd update this fic every time he updated his "Thirteen Ways" about the Denali coven. I have a soft spot in my heart for those girls. ;)

Many thanks, as always, to my lovely betas Darth Ishtar and Tersaseda. This story would have crashed and burned long ago without you! :) (And yes, there is a little homage reference in this chapter to Heartbroken1's fic "Bubble Gum Champion.")

Also, when you finish this chapter, there's a companion story to it called "Bright Ideas." Hope you enjoy it!

* * *

Charlie was up late watching a game by himself. He'd tried to convince Billy to come up, but he said he couldn't. Wouldn't, I suspected, not when I was engaged to a bloodsucker. The new goodwill between vampire and werewolf only went so far. Billy would have invited Charlie down, he said, but his TV was broken. Again, I suspected the TV was fine, but he didn't like the idea of me up here without Charlie, knowing I wouldn't be alone.

So far, Billy's nefarious plan was working. I'd come home around eleven o'clock as usual, but between the game and post-game show, it'd be well after midnight before Charlie turned in. I was in for a long wait tonight. Not having much else to do, I got ready for bed and then sat on the floor in front of my bookshelf, trying to decide what to read.

"Bored?" Edward said softly in my ear.

I twisted, shocked that he was carelessly sitting on the floor beside me. "Um, hi."

He smiled, amused at my reaction, and my thoughts scattered like feathers in a breeze.

"If I'm interrupting..." He shifted like he was standing to leave.

"No! I mean, yes, I was bored."

He sat back down and then looked at the bookshelf. "Would you like a bedtime story?"

I inched closer. "I can think of something better to do with your lips."

"I'm sure you can." He focused on my mouth. "Whistling, singing, eating — or in my case — drinking …"

"You forgot one."

He looked at me through lowered eyelashes, humor and mischief in his honey eyes. "Blowing bubbles?"

I crawled across the floor, across him, and rested my hands on his chest, leaning against his cold, solid body.

"Guess again," I whispered as I kissed him.

His lips moved against mine. One icy hand cupped my chin and slid down my neck. I shivered. He slowly shifted, leaning back and kissing me all the while, until he was lying on the floor, me cradled to his chest.

"Charlie turned off the TV," he murmured around my lips.

"Yeah?"

"This is a rather compromising position," he added, every word punctuated by kisses.

All I could manage was a whimper in answer. Mentally, I couldn't get past "Edward" plus "compromising."

With a dizzy roll, I was on my back in bed. Breathing quickly, Edward whispered, "I'll be back when he's asleep."

He disappeared, and there was a book in my hand.

In the same breath, there was a knock on my bedroom door. Charlie. I flipped open the book to a random page, not even bothering to see what the title was. "Come in."

He opened the door and stood awkwardly in the doorway. "Hey Bells. I saw your light was still on."

That was it — I was getting a nightlight! If I was going to have to put that stupid petty cash card to use, it may as well be for something that would keep Charlie from barging in. Besides, I missed too much in the darkness. I'd spent so many hours with Edward in which I couldn't see his beautiful face. What a waste!

Charlie tried to act all cool about it, but I caught the suspicious glance he gave my closet. The doors stood open, though, revealing nothing more incriminating than the outfit Alice gave me for grad.

"Yeah. I got to a good part and couldn't put it down." I held up the book, noticing it was _Much Ado About Nothing_. With great effort, I didn't roll my eyes. Edward had an odd sense of humor.

Charlie shook his head like I was the strangest person he'd ever met. "O-kay." Then he looked down, shifting from one foot to the other.

Everywhere Edward had touched me was tingling and goose-bumpy, and I felt a flash of impatience at my dad for standing there instead of going to bed. "Was there something else you needed?"

"Just…" He squared his shoulders and looked me in the eye. "You know that scene in _Father of the Bride_ when she announces she's getting married, and her dad sees her as a little eight-year-old girl?"

Oh crap! Was he getting all sentimental on me? Not Charlie! I could always count on him to spare me embarrassing emotional displays, unlike my mother. "Yes?"

"Well…" He took a deep breath and let it out with a whoosh. "… yeah."

_That's my dad._ I smiled. "Thanks."

Probably only Jacob understood me better. Funny thing was how well I understood Charlie, especially how he never stopped loving Renee. It was just like how he never stopped loving me. Even now, with the distraction of the tingling and Edward sitting on the roof or wherever, I understood exactly what he was trying to say. "I'll always be your little girl, Dad. You know that, right?"

"Marriage changes you," he said softly.

He had no idea how very true that would be for me. But with all the sudden surety of my epiphany about Edward, I knew I couldn't cut Charlie off. Not completely. Mom had Phil, but who did my dad have except me? And who did I have who understood me better? Jacob's and my friendship would never be the same again, but Charlie would love me no matter what. Even if he knew the truth — which he never could — I knew he'd still love me.

For months, I'd been preparing for heart-breaking final farewells. This idea of somehow keeping Charlie in my life was like the sun coming out. I wasn't sure how, exactly, but the details didn't matter right now, only the resolve. "I'm a Swan, Dad — like father like daughter. Constant. Nothing will change me _that_ much."

He smiled a little and bobbed his head once, accepting the truth of it. "Good night, Bella."

"Night, Dad."

I'd just finished reading the disastrous wedding scene — did Edward _really_ mean to give me a story about a girl being left at the altar? — when a velvet voice quoted, "When I said I would die a bachelor, I did not think I should live till I were married."

Edward was kneeling beside my bed again, mischief in his smile.

Would I ever get over how beautiful he was? I hoped not. "Your grace is too costly for working-days."

He rolled his eyes. "What? You're not going to 'cry heigh-ho for a husband'?"

He kindly let me whack him on the head with the book and then smiled crookedly. "I suppose I deserved that."

"I almost lost it with Charlie when I saw what you'd given me."

"If you're going to have a lapse in control…" he quoted me.

This time I did roll my eyes. "I didn't realize that everything I said could and would be used against me."

His mesmerizing eyes glowed with amusement. "You also have the right to an attorney. Luckily for you, I've been to law school."

What a pick-up line. "A lawyer _and_ a doctor? Are you going out of your way to make yourself Renee's dream-come-true as a son-in-law? Is there anything you don't have a degree in?"

"To answer your questions: yes, no, accounting."

I snorted. Accounting. Even though he had eternity to waste, I couldn't blame him for not wanting to waste it on that.

"Archeology?" I regretted the guess as soon as I made it. Dusty old labs for cataloguing was what I had in mind, but knowing him, he'd be some Indiana-Jones type.

"A major in Anthropology with double minors in Archeology and Greek."

Double minor. Ugh! I doubted that even as a vampire I would ever be that smart.

"Dance?"

"I had an emphasis in dance when I got a degree in Physical Education. Does that count?"

I stared, trying to figure out if he was kidding.

He pulled a face. "I lost a bet with Rosalie. She has a mean streak. The university training was bad enough, but the student-teaching stint was _brutal._ I had no idea that middle-school girls were _that_ hormonal."

I snickered. I could only imagine what it would be like to have Edward as a student teacher in any subject. Poor man. Poor girls.

"It was like the gates of hell opening every time I stepped through the school doors."

Gates of hell? That was a bit melodramatic. I pressed on through the giggles. "Physics?"

He actually pshawed at that one. "Come on, Bella. I did that back in the fifties."

"Computer Science?"

"That was two degrees ago."

Recognizing this as a losing battle, I backtracked, trying to remember how we got on this tangent. Oh yes. "I have a right to you?" I shifted closer. "I'm liking the sound of this."

"Mmm. Me, too." His gaze lingered on my lips. "You also have the right to remain silent."

"Is that an invitation?"

Edward's lips crushed mine, and a low, hungry sound in the back of his throat made my insides tremble with anticipation. "Yes," he murmured.


	16. Thirty

As always, my gratitude goes out to my extraordinary betas. Tersaseda, DarthIshtar, take a bow! :)

This entire fic was inspired by a single comment by Edward in BD the night before the wedding. "Have you slept at all in the last month?" So without further ado, I give you Night Thirty.

* * *

I ran in a wide arc a half-mile out from Bella's house, back and forth from the houses on her street around to the highway and back. Pacing.

I was trying to work up the courage to join Bella in her bedroom. It was ridiculous, really, after all the nights I'd been there that the sight of her welcoming window would fill me with terror. But tonight was different.

Alice wasn't with me.

Jasper's curiosity at Alice's nighttime haunting of Bella's house had grown to irritation and then finally action. The two of them returned from hunting tonight a few minutes before I was planning on running to Bella. I could see the stern resolve in his mind; Alice's part in this was over. He didn't bother to keep his opinion silent. "No more, Edward. I'm done with you tying up my wife every night."

If a vampire could snigger himself to death, that unintentional innuendo would have done Emmett in.

Jasper pursed his lips at Emmett's raucous laughter and then turned his best no-nonsense glare on me. "You're going to have to figure out something else sooner or later. It's not like Alice is…" He cast an aggravated, side-long glance at Emmett, who was now doubled-over on the floor, and carefully chose his words, "…is going to tag along for your honeymoon."

"I know," I sighed miserably. He was right, of course, and that fact hadn't escaped me. I had just wanted to improve the odds a little more first. And I'd wanted Alice's contribution to remain between me and her. I should have known better. There really were no secrets in my family.

Alice's lips twitched apologetically. _Edward, I'm sorry, but I wasn't going to lie to him. Besides, I spend all day with wedding plans and most of the night with you. He's missing me. We'll work something else out. I want to keep Bella safe, too._

I nodded once and left.

I'd been running ever since.

When the strip of blacktop came into view again, I decided I couldn't do this all night. Not that I couldn't keep running; I couldn't stay away from Bella any longer.

The lights were out in the house, but Bella was awake still and waiting for me in the glow of her new nightlight — a little blue-and-lavender glass butterfly. Alice had helped her pick it out. It was an unusual color combination, her softly-rose skin under the blue-tinted light. Somehow it made me think of deep, winter nights. The thought brought me back to those early days when I'd fled to Alaska, when this midnight hue and her face were all I could see.

Her smile was relieved when she saw me standing in the middle of her bedroom. "Couldn't find a cab?" she teased.

"No. Emmett was in a jovial mood and it took me a while to get away from him."

"Brothers."

I cuddled up behind her, and her scented warmth enveloped me. "You have no idea. I apologize in advance for inflicting him on you. For eternity."

"You aren't _still_ trying to talk me out of this, are you?" She laughed and indolently stretched before shifting onto her back to smile up at me. "Guess there has to be something to counter having Alice for a sister."

"Thank God for Alice," I agreed, and I meant it more than Bella realized.

She chuckled once and then reached up to stroke my cheek. I could feel the heat of her blood pressing against my face before her pliant skin touched mine. I turned into her hand and kissed her palm. The sweet rhythm of Bella's pulse accelerated.

It felt frighteningly odd, not having Alice's sight to guide me. I could feel everything and see nothing.

I couldn't just pick up where we'd left off last night. I didn't trust myself enough.

Her fiery scent was sweet on the back of my tongue. I let my lips skim down to her wrist before murmuring, "Bella?"

"Mm-hmm?"

"You should rest." I forced myself to ignore the feel, the taste, the scent of her and gently laid her arm on top of the quilt.

I expected her to plead for me to kiss her to sleep, so naturally she surprised me. "Nu-uh. You've got to clock a few hours first."

"Hours?"

"Desensitizing," she insisted through a stifled yawn. "It's your only responsibility. I have to subject myself to Alice's ridiculous primping and planning. All you have to do is stand next to the preacher and look glorious, which you could do in your sleep. If you ever slept. This is the only work you have to do."

"Do you have a time-card for me?" I sourly asked.

"Yep." She lifted her hand again and rested it on the back of my neck, pulling me down for a whisper-soft kiss. "There. Clocked in."

I smirked. "If I kiss you again, I'll be clocked out. Guess I'll have to figure out a different way to desensitize tonight."

Her pulse faltered and then broke into a gallop.

Curiosity quickened in my mind. "Any suggestions?"

"Um…" She blinked once and flushed. "Not really."

One day I truly would go mad from the suspense. But not tonight; I was too cowardly. Tonight I was grateful for some breathing space and the opportunity to set the pace.

I idly caressed her cheek with my thumb while I considered.

With the thirst, her scent had been the greatest stumbling-block, the part of her I had to grow accustomed to. With loving her, touch was the hard part, but it wasn't the only difficulty. _Her_ reactions — racing heart, eager body, utter abandon — were also…exciting. Frankly, I didn't _want_ to grow accustomed to those things, and I wasn't sure that a thousand years of familiarity would be enough to make the sound and sight of her hunger anything less than enthralling. But that was the task she'd set before me.

I smiled at her fondly. _Silly, trusting, adorable lamb._

A thousand ways I'd dreamed of touching her, the day after our first real conversation in Port Angeles. Each day since, I'd dreamed of a thousand more. I'd already touched her in so many ways, and many more caresses would have to wait another thirty nights, but in between, there was room for…practice. If I weren't being a gentleman.

My hand lightly slid down her cheek, my fingertips following the line of her jaw, and my thumb moved to trace her lips. She closed her eyes, savoring just as I was, and her lips parted, the moist heat of her breath like steam on my skin. I let my fingers drift down the side of her neck, my thumb tugging on her bottom lip ever so slightly.

She sighed a little whimper.

At the base of her throat, I continued over her soft, silken skin until my thumb brushed the neckline of her tank-top.

Her chest rose and fell in quick, shallow movements. Her pulse raced.

Excited.

Exciting.

With my fingertips, I traced a long, slow loop from her collarbone to the edge of her shirt and back. Warmth soaked into my icy skin. I was very much aware of the slight rise of her breast, even in that small circuit.

Flushed and beautiful, Bella lifted her chin, encouraging me.

Refusing to tempt fate any further, I moved my burning hand up and leisurely traced the line from the top of her shoulder over her arm and down to her elbow. Without opening her eyes, she caught my hand and moved it back up to her chest under her other collarbone.

A pang of desire pierced me. _She wanted more._

I let my hand rest on her glass-fragile body while I got my own body under control. Of course she wanted more — she was insane enough to insist on a human honeymoon — and that's what I would give her. But every touch must be to fulfill her desires, not mine. This pleasure was not for me. It _never_ could be. Not while she was human. Too often I'd seen the deadly alternative.

When I was reasonably calm again, I traced idle loops on her…chest. Bella's skin, always so soft, was even softer, more inviting there. It was far too easy to imagine my hands wandering down a little farther…

But that touch would have to wait another thirty nights.

I could imagine, an insidious part of my mind pointed out. I could think with abandon. Or at least try.

From her collarbone, my fingertips drifted to the strap of her tank-top. Ever so slowly, I wandered down, tracing the rim of her shirt, letting my mind go even farther.

Bella shivered once when I reached the lowest point of her collar.

I paused, my hand splaying across her skin, while I tried to tame my own reaction.

She shivered again, harder this time.

It finally occurred to me that she was cold, not…aroused. Or perhaps both. Regardless, I firmly told myself, it was time to stop. Her needs must always come first.

With an intensity that bordered on violent, I wished that I were human, that my touch would warm her.

I pulled her quilt up to her chin and her eyes flipped opened. She sighed, deflated, and another yawn slipped through. "You're not seriously going to stop there, are you?"

"Seriously? Yes."

She opened her mouth in protest, and lowering my head, I whispered, "You need rest. We'll have plenty of time tomorrow night."

Again she shivered, but I wasn't sure if it was because of my cold breath or the words themselves. Bella adorably pouted, and I couldn't resist tracing her lips with my finger. "I will kiss you to sleep, though, if you'd like."

"It'll do," she answered, closing her eyes again. "For now."

I gently brushed my fingertips across her forehead, pausing to smooth away the line between her brows. "For another thirty nights."

"And then…" she mumbled, her heart skipping.

"And then I'll kiss you to sleep much more thoroughly," I promised.


	17. Twenty Nine

I lay in bed with my arm over my eyes, trying to convince myself there was no need to hyperventilate. I mean, Edward wasn't even here yet.

_But he will be any second._

And if I was a wreck, he'd back off again. Keep his hands to himself.

_I could change my mind._ My stupid heart almost jumped out of my chest at the thought.

No.

Trying to calm down, I inhaled deeply through my nose, held my breath, and then slowly let it out. I was still…agog… that Edward would push the line like that. I mean, even when he'd tried to seduce me, he'd been a perfect gentleman about it. Not that he'd really _done_ anything last night. Still, this was _Edward_. Just the hints were enough to leave me dazed and breathless. I could only imagine what it would feel like when there wasn't the boundary of my clothing to stop him.

With a moan of frustration, I put my pillow over my face to keep myself from hyperventilating and passing out. And grimaced. Fainting at the thought of my honeymoon – that sounded about as old-fashioned as my wedding dress.

I had to calm down, but I could almost feel his icy fingers on my skin again, tracing my collar. It was so not like him, and he'd promised we'd take even more time tonight. I couldn't help imagining what he might do. After all, I was the one in charge of responsibility. Until last night, I'd almost forgotten that. He would go as far as I would let him.

My heart did a little jig at the thought.

The pillow disappeared, and marble lips pressed against mine.

"Trying to smother yourself?" he murmured through my kisses. "There are less drastic ways to get mouth-to-mouth."

I would have giggled, if I could have caught my breath.

He pulled back and eyed me. "Are you okay?"

Dang it! I _knew_ this would happen. "Fine," I promised him. "Absolutely fine."

"Because your heart…"

"I'm fine."

"And you don't seem to have enough oxygen."

"Fine," I growled.

"Your lips are blue."

I smirked weakly at that. "Are not."

Edward smiled and undid any calming effect his joking might have had on my body. I was wound so tight I was practically twanging. He started to tuck me in.

"No way! You promised!"

"I'm trying to make sure you don't freeze, Bella," he said.

I stubbornly kicked the quilt away. "Let me freeze."

He eyed me again, longer this time, his expression going from puzzled to knowing and then finally amused. "Not likely." But he only covered the lower half of my body when he pulled the quilt back up.

My breath hitched as he rested his chill hand on my neck. Where would I draw the line tonight? And which would be worse – him not going far enough or me trying to make myself stop him?

His smile was still amused, but hunger flickered in his eyes. His thumb idly stroked the front of my throat. "You seem a bit distressed, love."

"Not the word I would use," I breathlessly mumbled.

He leaned closer, his hand sliding around to the back of my neck to tip my face up to his. I whimpered when his lips touched mine.

"Clocked in," he whispered.

Meaning keep my lips to myself. I pouted. With that stunning crooked smile, he caressed my lips with his fingertip. Slowly, he retraced his movements last night, pulling on my bottom lip, running his hand down my throat to the edge of my shirt.

I forgot to be annoyed. I forgot that I was in charge. I forgot we were supposed to be waiting. I just wanted _more_.

Back and forth, he trailed his fingertips across my skin, following the curve of the collar, hesitating at its lowest point time and again.

My quick breath seemed loud in the room, but I somehow managed to hear his deep, steadying sigh. He hesitated again at the middle of my collar. Then he trailed his fingers over my tank-top, between my breasts, all the way down to the waistline of my pajama pants.

My eyes rolled back. A shiver began over my heart and radiated from head to toe.

"I'm not cold," I obstinately declared before he could say anything.

Edward's amused smirk did nothing to cool his smoldering eyes. His lips twitched like he was about to say something, but then he seemed to think better of it. Finally, he agreed, "No, you're not."

His hand slid along my waist to my side, his thumb caressing the top of my hip there. "Definitely not cold."

Pulling back the quilt, his hand idly drifted down the outside of my leg. When he'd gone as far as he could reach, he pulled me closer, rolling me onto my side, and hitched my leg over his. Then his hand continued to my knee. Slowly, reluctantly, he paused and murmured, "Breathe, Bella."

I found myself gasping. Somewhere back there, I'd been waiting with bated breath to see what he'd do next.

Amusement sparkled in his eyes as he brought his hand to rest against my face, his thumb stroking my cheekbone. Waiting.

As if I'd have an actual heart attack or something. I mean, Edward desensitizing was the best cardio workout a girl could get. _Well, the best cardio workout an _unmarried_ girl could get,_ I corrected. That thought did nothing to ease the dizzy hyperventilating.

He chuckled and rested his head on his arm. "Are you – "

"_FINE._"

Edward's smile broadened, as though he thought my irritation was funny.

I reached out, stroking his face, using the extra leverage from our unconventional embrace to pull him closer.

His expression grew serious, but there was no warning in his eyes. That surprised me, and I suddenly remembered that it wasn't his job to stop me anymore. So how far would I go? How far would I let _him_ go?

Blushing furiously, my hand slid down the smooth, chill surface of his neck. I knew what I wanted him to do, but I could only think of one way to tell him. I couldn't have produced a coherent sentence in that moment if my life depended on it.

With a completely unfair little sigh, he closed his eyes under my touch, his own hand falling away from my face to my waist. I trailed my fingertips across the chest of his shirt up to his marble forearm and finally down to his hand. Catching his wrist, I pulled his hand back up to the bare skin at the base of my throat.

Slowly, he opened his amber eyes; they glittered under lowered lashes. "How you tempt me, Isabella Swan."

"I don't know," I murmured, leaning closer – drawn to him. "How _do_ I tempt you?"

His chill lips whispered over mine, but I tangled my hands in his hair and pretty much threw myself into the kiss. Waiting for the wedding didn't seem all that important anymore. The tank-top would be the first thing to go.

When I reached for the hem of my shirt, though, Edward gently pushed me away. With a moan that sounded whiny even to me, I flopped back over onto my back. "I thought I was in charge of responsibility," I protested, panting.

"You are," he answered, his velvet voice strained and breathless. "I'm simply cooperating. Last I heard, we were behaving until after the wedding."

_Change your mind, change your mind_, my galloping heart seemed to say.

I groaned, but I was a little more coherent now. Edward's body or soul – which did I want more?

The reason he left was to save my soul. He'd used that fact as proof that he loved me more. I couldn't let him get away with thinking that. I could do this, if for no other reason than to prove that I loved him as much as he loved me, that I would sacrifice anything to save his soul. _Stupid, sexy, bizarrely-moral vampire._

I rolled up onto my side, facing away from him, and huffed, "Fine."

He stroked my hair for a moment, until my heart slowed a little. "I love you, Bella," he said gently. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have…"

"Oh yes you should," I mumbled. "I asked for it, remember?" I blinked furiously, flat-out refusing to cry. "Desensitizing was my idea. I just need to catch my breath, I guess."

"Fair enough." His arm looped over my waist. It was a steadying reassurance – he was staying here with me, even if we were behaving.

He softly hummed my lullaby, but it took me a long time to fall asleep.


	18. Twenty Eight

Author's Note: Gentle readers, here's my dilemma. I'm updating this fic on two different sites, plus playing in another fandom as part of a collaboration. (That's not including the 3 university classes I'm taking right now.) I would love to finish this fic by Christmas, but I honestly don't think I could respond to reviews AND finish the story by then. I've heard it said that reviews are love, but chapters are love from authors. :) If you're willing to accept chapters as love instead of review replies, I'll promise to finish this fic by New Years at the latest. Deal? :) (Let me know in a review, *hint hint*) ;)

Eternal thanks to my betas, Darth Ishtar and Tersaseda, and thanks to everyone who has reviewed, favorited, or alerted this fic!

* * *

I stood motionless in the shadow of the forest, listening impatiently as Charlie brushed his teeth and got ready for bed. The man seemed to take forever! Even more than past nights, I was eager to be in Bella's bedroom. I wanted to see if my idea would work.

My hands were shoved into my pants pockets, each tightly holding a hand-warmer. On my way home to drop off the Volvo and change clothes, I'd stopped by the Newtons' store to pick them up, and I'd been holding them for about forty-five minutes now. They had to warm up my cold skin a little bit. At least, that was my hope.

Because I was listening closely to Charlie, I heard Esme before she found me. _I've missed him so. I'm delighted for him, of course, but he's never home. I can't wait for Bella to be part of our family so I can have him back again._

"Sorry, Mom," I said as she came to stand beside me.

_I'm sorry, Edward. Wasn't watching my thoughts._

"I don't mind. Your head is a pretty comfortable place to be."

She chuckled at that. "I meant it, though. I don't begrudge you this time with Bella, but do you mind me stealing a few minutes, since you have to wait out here anyway? I miss you."

"I don't mind one bit."

"Sorry I wasn't there when you were home earlier." She and Alice had been late getting back from Seattle where they'd done some more wedding-related shopping.

"Was the trip successful?"

Esme laughed lightly. "With Alice along? Of course." Then she eyed my pockets curiously. She could feel the heat emanating from them. _What in the world?_

If I could have blushed, I would have. "Bella gets cold..."

She hid her laughter behind her hand. _Inconvenient packages._

That's what she'd said about Bella once, way back in the beginning. Love doesn't always come in convenient packages. I smiled with her, remembering.

"So that's what Alice meant." Esme recalled the moment for me: she is leaving the house to visit me here and Alice says, "Tell him it's a good idea. If I'm seeing this right, it'll lead to better than 80%."

I could also see Esme's wordless curiosity, but she didn't voice it, and I wasn't about to divulge.

Realizing I wasn't going to explain that little mystery, she changed the subject. "Have you thought any more about the honeymoon?"

Incessantly. But I wasn't about to admit that to my mother, and that wasn't really what she was asking. "A warm location would certainly be ideal. I was thinking about buying someplace special for the occasion, someplace private." I grimaced. "It would be nice to not be trapped indoors for half the time."

"What about my island?"

I stared at her blankly for a moment. It would be perfect, with all the things that made me originally want that South Pacific island but close enough to the mainland for hunting. But..."I couldn't ask that of you." Her memories of the place, of the time she spent there with Carlisle, were treasures to her. It was _their_ retreat. Asking to use that island would be like…well, it _would_ be borrowing their bedroom.

Charlie's snore ripped through the night.

Her eyes sparkled almost impishly. "I'm offering." _It's a paradise, and paradise is precisely what you deserve. What you both deserve._

I tried to think of a way to refuse, but she was right. Already I was envisioning Bella on the pristine beach, the tropical sun bringing out the red highlights in her hair. "Thank you. I'll owe you." If Alice approved of the location, of course.

"Considering the young woman you're bringing into the family, I believe it is I who owe you."

She moved to go, and I said, "Esme?"

"Yes?"

I hesitated. If there was any woman I could have a frank conversation with about physical intimacy, it would be her, but it was still an awkward subject to bring up. "What did it mean for you, your…first time with Carlisle?"

_Why would he ask that?_ Her thoughts flashed to Bella's face as understanding dawned upon her. She realized what I was asking for – a woman's perspective.

"For me or to me?"

"Either. Both." I hadn't thought about the difference.

"For me…" She recalled the house we'd lived in then, the hours she spent immersed in books, the joy she with which she greeted Carlisle and, to a lesser extent, me when we returned from work and college. _It meant I had a place in the world – a better place than I'd ever had before. I had a _family. _I knew where I belonged, and finally it was a place I wanted to be. It meant I wasn't worthless, damaged, undesirable._

But unlike Bella, Esme hadn't had any hang-ups about matrimony. What would marriage mean to Bella, really? It wouldn't be anything like that for her.

Esme's eyes were distant. "To me…" _I'll spare you actual memories._ She smiled up at me almost shyly. _Though I doubt words could adequately express…_

Esme struggled to collect her thoughts without actually remembering. She was mostly successful. I was surprised to see dim, human memories of her first husband. _It was such a contrast, for one thing. That man was always rough – I was sore, even bruised, the morning after – and selfish. Self-centered, perhaps, is the better term._

With relief, she let go of the human memories, and Carlisle's face filled her mind instead. _Carlisle was gentle. So very gentle. Patient. To me, my first experience with Carlisle was the opening of an entire world of feelings, both emotional and physical. It was my every romantic wish come true. Every schoolgirl fantasy, every yearning I couldn't put a name to as a woman. I know we are frozen, for want of a better word, by the change, but I think that when Carlisle took me in his arms as his wife, he restored part of me to the hopeful, smitten girl I was at sixteen. There was another change, somehow. I became whole._

Wonder colored her thoughts about Carlisle now, an awe that bordered on reverence.

_I'm sorry. That was probably far more information than you wanted._ With an embarrassed half-smile, she tilted her head toward the house. "I'll leave you to your lady love. Good night, Edward."

"Good night, Esme."

She flitted off into the night, trying to hide from me that our conversation had suddenly made her anxious to be near Carlisle again. What I wouldn't give to be to Bella what Carlisle was to Esme!

And to be for Bella what Carlisle was for Esme.

It was an interesting distinction. I was always so baffled that Bella could, on one hand, throw herself at me and, on the other hand, freeze solid at the mere mention of marriage. How could our relationship be wonderful before we were engaged and embarrassing after? I understood that she was mortified by what other people assumed, but why did she let their assumptions ruin her wedding? And if she didn't love and want me enough to emotionally move beyond that mortification, how deep did that love truly run? Yet her love _did_ run more deeply than I had imagined. Time and again she had proved she loved me more than life itself. She'd agreed to marry me _even though_ she was mortified. I'd hoped that she would overcome the embarrassment with time, but she was still as gloomily resigned to the wedding as ever. It was just so _baffling._

Bella was a modern human, and in her world, marriage and sex did not necessarily overlap. I understood and accepted that. But in the minds of other humans, the distinction between wanting to marry someone versus wanting to just sleep with them was ultimately between love and lust. I'd never considered that Bella's reaction might be a little deeper than that. Esme and I were from the same human world – one where love naturally evolved into marriage. To hear her make a similar distinction suddenly made Bella's reaction more reasonable. For Bella, marriage was an embarrassment. To Bella, our marriage was…her happy place.

And one was in no way a reflection on the other.

I felt a rush, suddenly buoyant at the thought. Love and lust – Bella felt _both_ for me. Ridiculous, really, that I hadn't understood it that way before. Even more ridiculous was how much the doubt had bothered me.

Still, the knowledge Esme had given me brought a real release. I embraced it and dashed to Bella's window. When my hand touched the window sill, I immediately noticed that it felt cool. I smiled to myself; the hand-warmers were working.

Bella was waiting, one arm behind her head and her left hand on the quilt, the diamonds glinting like sapphires in the glow from the nightlight. "There you are," she said, a smile lighting her face.

"Finally," I agreed, easing on to the bed beside her. Not that I was annoyed with Esme for delaying me. Her insight was more than welcome, but I realized I was still keyed up. Too eager. I wanted to take Bella in my arms and kiss her senseless. That _wouldn't_ be helpful for behaving, though. Instead, I took her hand and kissed her ring, then gently pressed my lips to her palm.

I wasn't sure what to expect with my hands being so much warmer, but it was almost a shock to feel her skin. The temperature difference was much less pronounced. Not that her skin on mine didn't still _thrill_, but her touch was much less distracting. My lips quirked up, pleased that the idea was working. This could make things so much _easier_.

Bella's lips parted in surprise at my relatively warm touch. "What…?"

"Hand-warmers."

Giving me a dubious look, she rolled up onto her side to face me, and I rested my hand on her neck, sliding it along the top of her shoulder to the strap of her tank-top. My fingertips drew idle circles on her skin there. "So I don't freeze you out tonight."

Her heart reacted, and she drew a deep breath. "Oh." She reached up to caress my face, and unlike my artificially warm hands, her touch there ignited the warm echoes. How I craved her!

I _would_ figure out how to make this discovery work to our advantage – later.

Relying on Alice's confidence, I dared to kiss Bella – really kiss her – for the first time in three nights.

"Good idea," she murmured.

"Thanks," I breathed against her lips.

Her fragile arms locked firmly around my neck, pulling me closer, and my hand rested on her bare shoulder. For half a moment, I allowed myself to get lost in the melody of her rushing blood and swirling, intoxicating breath.

For a few seconds.

I was enveloped in her warmth, from the heat rising off her excited body to the soft, deliciously-burning touch of her skin on my neck. My warmed hands were less distracting, but just then, that didn't mean much.

For a moment or two.

She turned her head, gasping for breath, and I wandered, kissing her cheek, her jaw. I shifted, leaving a trail of kisses down her scorching neck, lingering on her pulse-point. Her hands ran through my hair, encouraging me. A detached, rational part of me was pleased, relieved, that the temptation of her blood was still so easily ignored, even when I was so thoroughly distracted.

For five minutes – more or less.

Following the trail my hand had taken earlier, I left whisper-soft kisses along the top of her shoulder, not stopping until I reached her shirt strap. Then I pressed her onto her back and, starting with her cheek, worshiped the other, nearer side of her body.

I leaned away, but Bella followed, rolling up on her side again and seeking my lips with hers.

I couldn't flee very far, not because she held me, but because I couldn't bring myself to leave. "Bella – "

She cut me off with kisses. After a moment, she breathed, "Yeah?"

Around her eager lips, I murmured, "You're – driving – me – insane."

This time she leaned back, her face lighting up with a huge grin. "Really?"

I breathlessly laughed, recalling a very similar conversation we'd had months ago, though it was backwards this time. "Yes, really. Maybe we should – "

Again she interrupted me with kisses. "So if I – did – this?" She kicked the quilt away and wrapped one leg over my waist.

My body reacted – how could it not? – and I automatically followed when she rolled onto her back again, pulling me with her.

Remembered images of Bella writhing with my venom flashed through my mind. In that moment, I suddenly understood why Alice's vision of me killing Bella was so sure that first night of desensitizing. I _wanted_ her far too much. Other images, borrowed human memories, flitted through my mind, almost as disturbing – Esme's bruises.

I fled again, but only as far as the rocking chair this time.

The hurt in her eyes was literally painful to see, but it was less agonizing than the remembered vision. "What do you want of me, love?" I asked, embarrassed at how eager I sounded with my rough voice.

She hid her face under the pillow. "You're right."

"Not anymore," I answered in a low voice. She thought I was rebuking her, but I was never right anymore. "What you want is the only thing right in my world. I just have to make sure I'm doing what you want." Because I was truly on the brink.

"I want your soul."

Her words were still muffled by the pillow, but I heard them without trouble. I just didn't understand them.

"My soul."

She ripped the pillow away and glowered at me. "Yes. Your soul. You _do_ have one, you know," she continued fiercely, "and I'm going to protect it. That's what I want – to keep your soul safe."

I almost laughed, half in amazement and half in amusement at her tiger-kitten ferocity. The warmth I felt was like when she defended me to Jessica way back in the beginning, saying what I thought was even more impressive than my "gorgeous" face. The way I felt when Carlisle or Esme praised me beyond my deserving. She was so _sure_ I had a shot at salvation; who was I to argue? Seeing her now – the determination in her eyes, the flush of passion on her cheeks – I could not doubt her confidence. Or her love. I again felt that buoyant rush.

And if there was any chance for me, I would move heaven and earth to make sure her soul was safe, too, just as I was going to such lengths to protect her physically.

I picked up the afghan at the foot of her bed and gathered her into my arms, wrapping her up in the warm blanket. I was calmer, knowing as I now did that waiting was what she _truly_ wanted. Then I settled us both back into the rocking chair. She rested her head on my shoulder and I gently kissed her forehead. "Anything for you, Bella. Everything. Including my soul."

Her heart still beat quickly, and I stroked her hair, rocking us both. After another moment or two, I began humming for her.

It was a while before her pulse finally slowed. Still we rocked in silence. Eventually, she yawned once and said, "Kiss me to sleep?"

There was an undercurrent to her words. I tried to place the emotion there – resignation? Sorrow? Disappointment? Whatever it was, I didn't like it. I wouldn't let the night end on that note.

I shifted, sitting her up so I could see her better. She was being careful – her expression was blank.

With a little smile, I brushed the hair away from her face. "In a minute."

Slowly, affectionately, I kissed her, and I could feel her smile against my lips.

"Take your time," she murmured.


	19. Twenty Six

The heat from my shower felt so good. The day hadn't been particularly cool, but I'd made the water so hot that my skin was turning all pink. Edward's hands were warm_er_ last night, but I realized that if I was good and warm before he arrived, I'd be able to hold out even longer before I started to shiver and he declared us done for the night.

Charlie was already settling in for the night before I jumped in the shower, so I'd hauled out the thick fleece bathrobe he'd bought for me last Christmas. As soon as I was toweled off and dressed, I wrapped myself up in the robe, just to hold the heat in a little longer.

When I opened the bathroom door, a puff of steam preceded me, and I realized I was starting to sweat under the robe. The chill of Edward's body would be welcome again tonight. His cold, rock-solid, perfect body…

When I went into my room, Edward was laying on his back in my bed, his hands clasped behind his head.

It always gave my heart a little jolt to see him there, especially now that I knew my happy place was only twenty-six nights away. Smiling, I set my bath things on the desk and shook off my robe. His eyes widened slightly, and I realized he thought it was...appealing. I could feel myself blushing at the thought.

I drifted over to the bed, but Edward disappeared as I sat down. I froze, frightened, wondering what I'd done wrong, but he materialized beside me again, my brush in his hand, before I could work myself up into a full panic.

"May I?" he asked softly.

"Sure." I leaned back against his torso a little as he gingerly handled my damp hair. It was almost comical how careful he was, even with the one part of my body that he couldn't really hurt accidentally. I was always impatient and just ripped the brush through it.

It was a very soothing motion, but every now and again his cool hands brushed against my skin, making my heart skip a beat. Relaxing a little, my mind was drawn back to the stories my soon-to-be family had shared tonight – about the change, about that first newborn year.

After a moment, he asked, "What are you thinking?"

"That after my history lesson tonight, I need a pleasant story to think about." It was one thing to understand that humans weren't at the top of the food chain, but it was quite another to hear Alice or Esme talk about the people she'd killed. I'd heard a lot of disturbing things since Carlisle started his lessons, but somehow tonight's stories were the very worst. I didn't like to think of the Cullens that way. They _weren't_ that way. I'd have been somebody's snack long ago if they'd never grown beyond being thirst-crazed newborns. But still, the mental image of scarlet-eyed Alice on the hunt...

He sighed deeply. "There _are_ no pleasant vampire stories. At least, not from the human's point of view."

"I remember one…from my research on the internet…"

"Research?"

"When Jacob let slip what you are."

He didn't answer.

"There was an entry on one called the stregoni benefici."

He began chuckling. "That one survived, did it?"

"You've never bothered to look?"

His laughter grew stronger. "After a few years of researching the utter absurdity you humans come up with about vampires, I haven't been interested beyond pop culture."

"So there's truth behind it?"

"I don't know," he hedged. "What exactly did it say?"

"Just that the stregoni benefici were good vampires who opposed the evil ones."

"The normal ones," Edward corrected in a sardonic voice.

I didn't answer, just waited patiently. The steady rhythm of the brush running through my hair continued uninterrupted.

"I'm surprised you haven't guessed by now, Bella. Think. Who's the best, most-compassionate vampire you've ever met?"

When he put it that way, I felt stupid that I hadn't put two and two together sooner. "Carlisle? He's a stregoni benefici?"

"_The_ Stregone Benefice. He's one of a kind, though humans never seem to give up hope. I wonder if gazelles have this kind of morbid fascination with lions."

I snorted and pointed out, "Or lions with lambs."

"Touché."

"So how come I haven't heard this one yet?"

"Carlisle's too humble to bring it up on his own, but Eleazar told me the story once. When Carlisle was living with the Volturi, Aro tried to cure him of his aversion to shedding human blood. At first, he gave Carlisle a…fiefdom, I guess you could call it. Personal hunting grounds."

Edward's chill hands briefly touched my neck and I shuddered. So that's where Carlisle came up with the idea.

"It's a great honor to feast with the Volturi," he said bitterly. "Only the most civilized can handle having other vampires that close while feeding and not have it end up in pitched battle. Most of the Volturi's visitors are given a hunting domain for the duration of their stay. Aro knew from the moment they touched that Carlisle hunted animals, of course, so he gave Carlisle the most densely-populated part of Florence to hunt in."

"Florence? The city?"

Edward snorted. "Yes. You see the difficulty? Carlisle couldn't just go hunt elsewhere, even if he was only hunting animals, because he'd be infringing on someone else's territory. Besides, it would be incredibly rude." The last part was said in the same bitter tone.

"So what did he do?"

"He accepted the fiefdom. And when he grew thirsty, he went to the ocean and hunted porpoises."

Normally I would have pitied the dolphins, but in light of the alternative…"What did Aro do then?"

"He was amused but not overly surprised. A few years later, he tried bringing Carlisle into the tower for a feast. Carlisle was unaware of what would be happening, of course."

I could see it all too clearly – the grim tower, the cloaked menace, Aro's deceptively-kind smile. And then I tried to picture Carlisle in the middle of that. A young Carlisle, one who hadn't learned yet to ignore the call of blood. I imagined his eyes going black, his rigid stance while he fought the burning thirst, the sorrow and pity that would pucker his brow. A few decades, he'd stayed with them. Year after year, he watched people be herded through that door and stood by while dozens of vampires killed thousands of people. "If Aro was doing things like that, then why did Carlisle stay so long?"

"He wanted to change the Volturi. Carlisle saw how civilized they were with each other and how Aro was so engrossed by humanity. He keeps detailed histories of both the vampire and human worlds. Carlisle hoped to end the slaughter. And…"

"Yes?"

"I realize this won't make much sense to you, but Carlisle felt much more human around them."

I twisted to stare up at him in disbelief.

"They went to operas and symphonies, even masses. Aro let Carlisle read those histories – twenty-five-hundred-years' worth of knowledge – and he was able to speak with people who had actually lived through that time. They were a true community. I don't know if you can appreciate what it meant when he gave that up. And it was even harder for him to give up the hope of winning over Aro to our lifestyle."

That _would_ be like Carlisle, to see that much potential in anyone, even the Volturi. "But how did humans find out about all this?"

Edward started brushing my hair again. "They didn't, not really. During the time Carlisle lived with them, if he and Aro wanted a private conversation, they would go to Florence and walk while they talked and debated in Etruscan.

"Legends of the stregoni – literally 'the wizards' – had circulated for centuries. The famous 19th-century violinist Paganini even adopted elements of the legends, dressing as a stregone and encouraging the idea that he'd made a pact with the devil to be able to play with such remarkable skill. They were an omen of evil – black cloaked strangers speaking in an obviously arcane tongue. Death, fire, and disappearances all followed the stregoni, but no harm befell the city when the young, fair-haired one was seen walking with them. Even before Carlisle left for the New World, he heard the whispers when he passed through the streets with Aro and his guard – il stregone benefice. The Charitable Wizard."

I smiled as I imagined it – the relief people must have felt when they saw Carlisle among the demons. He'd done more than simply refrain from killing people; he actually protected them. Everywhere he went and for hundreds of years. "You're wrong about one thing, though. Carlisle isn't alone now. He has a whole family of stregoni benefici. And for the record, I think that's a pretty good vampire story, even from the human's point of view."

He flipped the hair in his hands up into a pony-tail and pressed an icy kiss to the back of my neck. I gasped and my back arched even as I leaned into him. "I always thought you were a little crazy," he murmured, his cold breath washing over my skin. Then he draped my hair over my back and resumed brushing it.

I sat there, stunned, for a moment and tried to catch my breath again. And then I remembered that I was in my bedroom with Edward and that trying to catch my breath would be an exercise in futility. Or at least, I hoped it would be. Even after putting the brakes on us last night, Edward had spent more than an hour kissing me to sleep.

"It'll take a long time to brush my hair dry."

"I can be patient," he said, continuing the gentle stroking.

Turning, I caught his hand and tossed the brush onto the floor. I knelt on the bed facing him. "I can't."

He took my breath away with a crooked smile. "Tell me something I don't know."

I slid my arms around his marble neck. "I thought you knew everything."

A teasing light danced in his eyes as he bent to kiss me. "Almost."

I giggled against his lips. His cool hands rested on my hips and gently pulled me closer. I willingly obliged until he finally wrapped one arm around my waist and lifted me off the bed. His simply stood there, holding me against him and trailing kisses down my neck.

"What don't you know?" I breathlessly wondered.

With an abrupt chuckle, Edward set me on my feet again and rested his forehead against mine. "What you're thinking."

I paused, biting my lip and trying to come up with something good. "You never did tell me last night. How _do_ I tempt you?"

With an exasperated sigh and affectionate smile, he slowly ran his fingers down my spine. "Shall I explain how you are tempting me?"

Those exact words, said in the exact same tone, had made me faint the day I first met his family. Not this time – I was growing stronger. Strong enough to bear his love. Still, I couldn't quite find enough breath to answer. I arched my back, pressing myself even more closely to him.

His icy lips brushed my ear as he spoke. "You are my every desire, Isabella Swan. You give me purpose. No knowledge is more needful than your thoughts; no peace is as complete as your slumber. You have saturated my life with joy and awoken desires that promise pleasure beyond my imagining. No heaven could be more perfect than the circle of your arms."

I focused on breathing, determined not to faint again. Was that what he would have said if I hadn't interrupted him by passing out that day? Why hadn't I thought to ask him about it sooner? Probably because I would have just fainted again.

Slowly, his lips slid down the line of my jaw, making breathing just that much harder. He kissed the corner of my mouth. I gave up trying to focus. His soft, serious kiss knocked my knees out from under me. Literally.

Of course Edward caught me. "Why _does_ that make you faint, anyway?" he asked as he laid me down on the bed and tucked me in.

I refused to let go of him, and he lay down beside me. It took me a minute to be able to answer. "You always take my breath away. I'm just not standing up most of the time."

His soft laughter shook the bed. "You did much better this time. This desensitizing is doing you some good, too."

I thought about that as my breath slowly evened out and my heart calmed down. I _was_ desensitizing. I hadn't even realized it until now. The thought brought with it a fear that bordered on panic. What would the honeymoon do to me? Would his kisses become less powerful? Would experiencing…Edward make me want him a little _less_? For eternity? Was it a mistake to wait for him to change me?

The images of Bree's last moments were burned into my mind. She was captured by enemies who had used deadly force and all she could think about was my blood. If survival wasn't enough to keep a newborn's attention, would passion be? I thought about what I felt in this moment, with Edward laying beside me in the dark. Even if it did cost me to wait, I was willing to take the risk. Whatever I lost to desensitizing would be an easy exchange for fulfilling this intense, irrational longing. It was worth any price.

"In that case," I murmured, "maybe we should practice a little more."

He rose up on one elbow, his exquisite face coolly beautiful in the white moonlight that was even brighter than my nightlight. "You're such a slave-driver," he whispered, leaning closer, a little smile playing across his lips. "Bring on the shackles."


	20. Twenty Five

I hated hunting – not because it was surrendering to my vampire nature, but because it took me away from Bella. It was a necessary evil.

Jasper and I had slipped away for a local hunt, but we ran with matching strides now, whispering through the darkness. Emmett was an easier brother to love and we'd had fifteen years together as family before Jasper and Alice joined us. When I was feeling truthful, I'd admit that lost time hadn't made a difference with the depth of my relationship with Alice; it was Jasper himself that I struggled with. Part of it was his newness to this way of life. That first decade or so was almost as bad as having a newborn around. The other part was the discomfort of having the proverbial shoe on the other foot. I was accustomed to seeing into others' souls but it was uncomfortable to watch Jasper seeing into my soul, too. It made me feel almost…exposed. Hypocritical, I knew, but that's what I felt. Tonight had been even worse than usual, with the conversation we'd just had.

I'd asked for his perspective and Jasper was irritated with me. Better than anyone except Alice, he knew what it would do to me, to Alice, and to all our family if anything happened to Bella on her human honeymoon. Perhaps he knew even better than Alice, since he had felt what that kind of loss had done to our Denali cousins. He was frustrated with my folly for making my promise to Bella and even more aggravated at my stupid stubbornness in keeping that promise.

I was glad we were almost to Bella's house where she was currently being entertained by her maid of honor in my absence. "Alice is there," I told him, trying to offer an olive branch.

_Good,_ was all he thought.

When we breezed in, Alice and Bella were sitting on the floor playing Monopoly with real money. How Alice had managed to talk Bella into that I had no idea, but I hoped it hadn't upset my fiancée too much. Fortunately, Bella greeted me with a relieved smile instead of a frown or – horrors – tears of anger. Seeing her angry enough to cry turned me inside out and made me quite literally ready to kill whoever had wronged her. Unfortunately, that someone was often me

Jasper got his vengeance on me by not waiting until he and Alice were gone before he started planning what they would do with the rest of the evening. I got a detailed breakdown of their upcoming tryst in stereo. Jasper noted my irritation with a sense of petty satisfaction.

"You win!" Alice abruptly said, tossing the game into its box in a blink of Bella's eyes. She briefly considered stashing a couple hundred-dollar bills in Bella's bathrobe pocket. Thankfully, though, Alice decided to spare me the tantrum that she saw would inevitably follow and instead gave her favorite sister a quick peck on the cheek. "See you tomorrow."

Bella hugged her and mumbled, "See you."

_Finally_ they were gone. Rather than let Bella sense my residual irritation, I settled into the rocking chair with what was, I was sure, a perfectly curious expression. "Real money?"

"Don't let that give you any ideas," she warned, perching on my lap. "I was being held against my will."

"You could probably press charges," I teased. "Any jury in the country would side with you on damages for duress _and_ Monopoly."

She sniggered, and I couldn't help but smile, too; Bella's laughter had that effect on me. She placed my hand palm-up across her legs and lightly traced the veins in my wrist and forearm. Such a simple, innocent gesture, but very powerful. The warmth almost made me feel alive, almost made me feel like blood was actually running through my veins again.

The comfortable silence grew too long. Her shoulders slowly tightened and, after a moment, she sighed. "Remember the other night, when I said I wanted your soul?"

"Yes?" I waited expectantly, but she hesitated, biting her lip. Was she worried she'd offended me? I thought I'd made myself clear. "I want your soul, too."

"I know." The disappointment was so plain on her face that I had to smother a laugh.

"I'm going to be good," I promised her.

She sighed again, grimacing slightly this time. "I know that, too."

I gathered her in my arms.

She rested her head on my shoulder and then jerked upright again. "Wait. When you say you're 'going to be good'…?"

Chuckling when I realized the double entendre, I kissed her lightly. The girl was impossible. "I'm going to behave, Bella. I'll be a gentleman."

"But…"

She left the word hanging, and I hesitated, unsure that I wanted to hear the rest of her objection.

"What if…What if I didn't want…"

_If she didn't want to wait?_ An odd thrill of both desire and dread rippled through me. "It's your decision, Bella."

"But does it have to be all or nothing?" she murmured, her gaze darting to my face.

Relief made me smile, and her pulse reacted. This was definitely a compromise I could live with. "I suppose not. But I won't unilaterally cross boundaries like that again. I promise."

She reached for my artificially warm hand, and again her touch was only slightly distracting. However, I could feel her radiant blush as she ducked my gaze. She twined her fingers with mine and then lifted our clasped hands to the base of her throat. Shyly, her eyes flickered to mine. "Please?"

She wanted my hands to wander again. The feel of her soft, textured skin was temptation enough. Hearing her beg for my touch…. I gently caressed her face, guiding her head to my shoulder.

With a soft moan, she turned her head, kissing my neck. My breath caught, and while I should have been terrified at this dangerous, additional distraction, I couldn't bring myself to feel anything other than the pleasure of her living skin against mine.

I paused, letting my hand rest on the top of her bare shoulder, trying to think despite her devastating kisses. It was suddenly clear that I _had_ to find a way to warm all of me, not just my hands. In the face of this overwhelming distraction, I needed to do _everything_ I could to help me stay focused on not killing her.

Rising to my feet, I carried her to her bed and knelt beside her on the floor, tracing the line of her collar again. Her eyes rolled back and she took a deep breath. Excited – again. And again exciting. It boggled the mind that I first touched her this way only five days ago. Even more unbelievable was that caressing her now was _slowing things down._

I tried to think, tried to imagine actually _touching_ her while she kissed me like that and not breaking her. The temperature – that was the key. After we'd spent a few hours on Isle Esme, I'd be significantly warmer simply because of the ambient air temperature, but I just couldn't imagine that conversation going well. _"Let's play Monopoly with Brazilian money for a few hours while I warm up."_ I'd considered everything from electric blankets on the plane to having the cleaning crew stash a space-heater on the island. It just all seemed so…classless. Like it would detract from the moment, and I wanted that moment to be perfection. Maybe a bonfire on the beach, though with her propensity for accidents, that might not be the wisest idea. Besides, I just couldn't imagine her keeping her clothes on that long. That was a pleasant line of imagining…

With my other hand, I traced the lines of her face – practicing. Her lips, her smooth cheek, her eyebrows. When I reached up to follow the long crescent of her face, my cool skin brushed against her damp hair. Clarity – I could see it, almost feel it – Bella and I swimming together. Romantic. Intimate. We could take our time, and the water would help me warm up all the more quickly. And she would be cooler, closer to my temperature – just as her wet hair was almost the same temperature as my hand.

It would be dark when we arrived, of course, but the night would be bright with a full moon. I tried to imagine it – imagine us together in the water. Would I carry her there? Lead her by the hand, my blushing bride following shyly? No, I decided. It must be her choice. Always. I would wait for her. She'd probably need a human minute first anyway.

_Alice…_ In my imagination, I pictured Bella and I in the Rio airport as we returned home, willing Alice to be watching that moment for me, though more than likely she and Jasper were miles away and she was too distracted herself to be any use to me. Still, I would try. _Let me know if she'll be safe._

Hoping Alice would be focusing on the airport scene wherever she was, I allowed myself to go back to planning. I would wait in the water for Bella; close enough to the shore for her to find me, to easily make her way to me. My breath was quickening at the thought. Waist deep, I decided.

And then? I would turn and my bride would be there, unveiled, beautiful in the moonlight. Stunning. Overwhelming. _Distracting._

In the present, I closed my eyes, my wandering hands coming to rest against her face and neck. How could I possibly do this when merely _imagining_ the moment made me dangerously distracted? But I had to find a way – I'd promised her.

Was that my heart speaking or my head? Or…another part of me?

_I promised._

I had to act slowly, deliberately. That was another key. Never a thoughtless act or touch. Like tonight, I'd need to find a way to slow things down a little. So what then? We would still need more time for me to warm up. I smiled as an idea occurred to me, and my hand on her neck slid down to the top of her shoulder.

I would finally be able to ask her all the questions I hadn't dared to yet. In her happy place, where did she imagine me touching her? And how? What was the setting? When I'd said I needed to find another way to desensitize and she blushed and refused to answer – what was she thinking then? When had she first realized she wanted me? There was an entire world of questions I couldn't ask my girlfriend or even my fiancée, but maybe I could work up the courage to pose some of them to my bride. Of course, I would have to be willing to answer any question I asked. How did I imagine _her_ touching _me_? When did I first realize I wanted her _that way_?

So that probably wouldn't make things less intense, but at least it was a stalling tactic that was acceptably romantic. Eventually, though, I wouldn't be able to stall any longer. I would have to bring her back to the shore – I couldn't risk having my attention divided even further between making love with her and keeping her from drowning. Where would I take her – to the house or to the beach?

Under the stars, with the soft sound of the waves on the sand…. The sand. One human memory suddenly returned to me – swimming in Lake Michigan and my friend Robbie Nuttall dumping a bucketful of sand down the shorts of my bathing suit. Though the memory was dim, I clearly remembered being furious with him because it was days before I could get all the sand off my body. It wouldn't be a problem for me now, but I didn't want to run the risk of making Bella uncomfortable. Not the beach, then.

The bedroom. I only knew it from Esme's and Carlisle's thoughts. A king-size bed draped in white. A master suite – little did Carlisle imagine when he bought the island that someone in our family would actually _use_ the master bathroom. A smile twitched on my lips as I envisioned Bella and me in the shower there and finally being able to see – touch – what I could only imagine now. The thought was literally breathtaking.

Of course, that would most likely come later.

Because after delaying that long, Bella would be…very excited. Would she be the one leading me by the hand up the path to the house? Would I carry her in my arms, or would we already be intertwined? We'd tumble onto…. No. I'd gently lay her down and pull the netting around the bed, enveloping us. Her choice, her comfort must always be foremost.

And then?

In the present again, I took a deep breath as my unruly imagination ran away with me. I could _try_ to plan that – had tried to plan for almost a month – but I understood myself well enough now to know how unfocused and distracted I would be. To be successful, I realized, any plan had to be _simple._

I crept into Bella's bed, lying on my side and propping my head up on my hand. She willingly made room for me. When we would be in a much larger bed, and in a much more private setting, I might be able to hold one strategy in my mind: be passive. Let her lead.

As if reading my mind, Bella rolled up onto her side facing me, reaching for me. With my thoughts already far away in our happy place, I noticed so many other exciting things. Her eyes were wide, the pupils dilated more than necessary in the lavender light. The warmth of her pounding pulse was rolling off her. And her scent! Burning-sweet as always, but now much more revealing. And then the supple skin of her hand was on my neck, pulling me closer.

_Passive._

I rolled only my back, bringing her with me. Practicing. She followed, her heart accelerating. It was so easy – effortless – to imagine. She took my face in her hands and eagerly kissed me, and I willingly followed her lead.

…

I slipped away to change clothes when Bella was fast asleep. I'd all but forgotten about my wordless plea for Alice to be watching the trip back from Rio for me. She was plunking out a random melody on my piano when I returned home. _You owe Jasper_, she warned, though I could hear her Cheshire grin even in her thoughts. _REALLY owe him._

I remembered then the motorcycle that I'd neglected to bequeath to him. Alice's face lit up as she saw what I planned to do, and flickers of their future road trip – fully funded by me including a generous wardrobe allowance – danced through her mind. Another honeymoon for the two of them – I owed Alice alone that much. And she was right; I owed Jasper now, too.

She pursed her lips, fighting a smile. _Ninety-seven percent!_ she inwardly crowed. _I'd give you at least that much of a probability that Bella will come home perfectly unscathed._

In the disastrous vision, it wasn't until toward the end of the honeymoon that I killed her. I knew from past experience how I grew careless with time, and so the worst injuries would be near the end.

I wouldn't hurt Bella. The relief was staggering. "Thank you, Alice."


	21. Twenty Two

The phone rang as I rinsed the lentils and rice for tonight's salad. It was an easy dish, and the lemon and basil dressing was mouthwatering. Charlie wasn't a big fan of lentils, but he didn't mind some of my more exotic dishes, as long as I served them with comfort food like bratwursts.

I reached across and picked up the phone on the fourth ring, then returned to shaking out the strainer. "Hello?"

"Bella."

The clipped female voice was a surprise. "Mrs. Clearwater."

"Seth got your invitation in the mail yesterday." Her hostility all but crawled through the phone line to shake its fist in my face.

What invitation? I specifically ordered Alice to remove all werewolves from the guest list until I could figure things out a bit more. I still hadn't heard from Jake and I wanted to give him some time. It wasn't like he didn't already know I was going to be married soon.

"I was calling to let you know we'll be coming."

Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap. This was like _Sleeping Beauty_ except the ticked-off, overlooked guests were werewolves. The last people in the world I wanted to cross were the Clearwater women. Okay, so maybe that was an exaggeration. The Volturi were worse. Slightly.

"But Jacob Black won't be."

My heart dropped to my shoes.

"He's not here anymore. He ran away."

I finally found my voice again. "_WHAT?_"

"He blew up at his dad, yelled at my daughter, and then bolted. His brothers aren't following him. He's gone."

I was numb to the accusation in her voice. Jake was gone. A little part of my heart crumpled the way the rest of me did when Edward left.

Charlie ambled into the kitchen, concern on his face at my earlier exclamation. Upon seeing my expression, he put a steadying hand under my elbow and made me sit down in a kitchen chair.

"When?" I asked Sue.

"What?" Charlie demanded.

"Yesterday afternoon."

"Jacob's run away," I told my dad. "He's been gone for a whole day."

He wrenched the phone from my hand and instantly began grilling Sue Clearwater for information. I just sat dazed in the chair until I realized the faucet was still running and went to turn it off.

_It's not as bad._ I'd thought those words once, a lifetime ago, when Jake had "broken up" with me. This time wasn't as bad as then, not even for the crumpled part of me. I knew his secret, and I knew why he was running now. It wasn't the end of the world. It definitely wasn't that.

It was just the ruining of my world. The silence between Jacob and me had dragged on, but I made myself respect his need for distance. As long as he didn't call and tell me to go to hell, then there was a chance he might forgive me. He just needed time, I told myself day in and day out.

And now this.

Why did it have to be Sue who called? Seth could have actually _helped_. I could have asked him questions, the most important being if Jake was a wolf or human when he ran. If he was a wolf, then I could at least know via the pack if he was…I almost thought okay but I realized that he wouldn't be okay no matter what. Safe. That was what I needed to know – that he was safe.

"I'll be right down," Charlie declared.

"Dinner?" I half-heartedly prompted.

He hung up with Sue. "We'll get something on the way."

We? "I'm not sure I'm the most welcome person on the reservation right now."

"Don't you care about him at all, Bella?"

The last thing I needed was to be surrounded by werewolves _and_ parents who wanted to bite my head off, but I did care about Jake, and there was a part of me that desperately needed to know all there was to know. "Yes. Just let me call and explain to Edward."

Charlie grumbled as he went to stomp into his boots.

I dialed Edward's cell and he picked up before it finished ringing. "Hello, Bella." He sounded pleasantly surprised.

"Hi. Umm…Jake's run off after getting a wedding invite and so now I have to go with Charlie to Billy's house and Sue's likely to be there, too." Too low for Charlie to hear, I added, "Will it be a violation of the treaty if any werewolves kill _me_?"

In his best menacing-vampire voice, he growled, "Treaty or no, it would be disastrous for them if they did. I'll come with you."

I wasn't going to get a warm welcome as it was; I could only imagine the carnage that would follow if Edward showed up on the reservation tonight. "Wouldn't _that_ violate the treaty?"

There was silence on the other end for a moment. "Charlie will be with you?"

"Yes."

He sighed. "I really don't think you'll be in any danger, Bella. I just don't like the idea of you facing their wrath alone."

"Come on!" Charlie called from the entryway.

"I'll be okay. I don't know how late we'll be."

"Don't worry about that. I'll be waiting for you when you get home. Take your cell phone." As an afterthought, he added. "Give Billy my apologies."

"The cell's already in my purse. Bye."

The phone went dead. I hung up and ran to join Charlie in the cruiser.

...

It was full night when we returned home. It wasn't a pleasant trip back from the reservation; for once Charlie's silence was ominous. He dropped me off at the front porch with a morose "See you in a bit" and then drove to the police station to open a missing persons report.

Edward was waiting in the living-room for me, the thick afghan from my bedroom draped across his lap and his arms open. I sank into his embrace with a sigh of relief, and he wrapped me in the blanket. I didn't really like not feeling his cold arms, but I wasn't going to protest tonight.

"How did it go?"

I rested my head on Edward's shoulder, letting his closeness soothe me. "Better than I thought it would, in some ways. Worse in others. Billy was… philosophical about it, I guess. You were right to stay up here, though. He gave me a strange look when I told him you were sorry. I think Sam may have growled, too. Billy said Jacob was old enough to make his own decisions and would come home when he wanted to." I had the distinct impression that Jacob spent at least part of the time as a wolf, and that's why Billy was so calm. He knew Jake was okay and just needed a little more space. Which reminded me. "I'm going to strangle Alice for sending him an invite in the first place."

"Alice didn't send the invitation. I did."

"What?" I jumped to my feet and gaped incredulously.

"He's my friend too, Bella. He and Seth _both_ are."

I was spitting mad. "But… he… I… ugh!"

"I never imagined he would react like this."

I threw my hands in the air. "I did! Edward, think! How would you feel if I had chosen Jacob?"

His expression was suddenly smooth, but there was pain in his words. "I would want to spend every moment I could with you."

I sighed and returned to his lap. I guess that was another difference between him and Jacob. Edward really was a masochist. He willingly inflicted pain on himself.

"Why do you think I never go down there anymore?"

Edward studied me for a moment. "Why don't you?"

He really didn't get it? "Because he needed some space. I was hoping that something of our friendship might be salvaged eventually, if he could just have some distance from the hurt." I grimaced. "Now he's putting some serious distance between us."

I secretly wondered if Edward knew Jake would react this way and was trying to put the last nail in the coffin of Jacob's and my friendship. But Edward wouldn't do that, would he? I mean, sure he might have once, but not now. Right? He said he did it in friendship.

Some friend.

But that wasn't fair to Edward. I mean, he did things that made no sense to anyone but him all the time. Even if he did know the inside of Jacob's head as well as he did his own, that doesn't mean that Edward would act any differently from what he thought was right.

Stupid, arrogant, dazzling, chivalrous vampire. "You should have asked me."

His jaw clenched once but he didn't answer.

I rested my head on his shoulder again, seeing in my mind the tense scene in the Blacks' tiny livingroom. "Charlie just about climbed the walls. He and Billy have been friends forever, and he's spent way more time with Jake than he ever did with me. I wouldn't say it was like Charlie losing his own son, but I think it's pretty close. He said if Billy wouldn't take action, then he would. He refused to turn in until he'd at least opened a missing-persons case on Jake. He's really torn up."

When Edward didn't comment, I continued, "Sam just shrugged when Charlie said that, but that's when Billy said Jake would make his own decisions. Leah was glaring daggers at me, but Seth came to sit beside me. Before I left, he said to tell you thank you for inviting him."

I glanced up, and one corner of Edward's mouth pulled up in a beautiful, sad smile. "Seth is…a good soul."

"He is," I agreed.

We lapsed into silence.

Of all the images burned into my mind from tonight, the one that bugged me most was Sam's expression. I mean, sure, he was the Alpha, but Billy was Jacob's dad and Charlie was practically his uncle. It was like Sam thought those bonds were meaningless, like he had some stupid wolfy claim that was more important than anything else. More important than all the rest put together. We didn't matter. It was like he _owned_ Jacob. He was the one responsible for Jake and all the rest of us could wring our hands or argue till we were blue in the face, but he knew what was best and that's the way things would be. In that way, he reminded me vaguely of Edward.

And Sam blamed me. His eyes never left me. His face was a hard, smooth mask, but his eyes burned with anger.

I'm sure he had a whole boatload of blame for Edward, too, but Edward wouldn't be able to hurt Jake if it weren't for me. I was the reason Jake was running for all he was worth. Me and my selfish, stupid mistakes. I was as clumsy with hearts as I was with anything else; I broke them. And the worst part was knowing he was right. Charlie would have agreed with Sam whole-heartedly if he'd spoken his accusations aloud.

No, I corrected myself. The worst part was knowing there wasn't a single thing I could do to make it right.

I sighed. "I need to get ready for bed."

Silently, Edward cradled me in his arms and carried me to my bedroom. It made me feel like a little kid, but in a good way. Safe. Sheltered. How did he know I needed that tonight?

"I'll wait right here for you, and I'll kiss you to sleep when you return." He set me on my feet and his lips gently pressed against my forehead. "I love you."

I gratefully smiled up at him. I was glad somebody did. "I love you, too."

...

When I returned from the shower, Edward was laying on his side on top of my quilt, the blanket already flipped back for me. With a sigh, I slipped between the sheets and Edward tucked me in. In his irresistible voice, he softly sang my lullaby. Even that wasn't enough to let me sleep – behind my eyelids I kept seeing Seth's worried expression and I couldn't keep the guilt from making my eyes swim with tears.

It was wrong, and it only caused pain for myself and everyone else involved, but I _did_ love Jacob. Not enough to make a difference, but enough that I wanted to see him smile. I wanted him to be happy. In his absence, I'd begun to imagine him healing. I'd begun to imagine that he'd show up on his motorcycle or in the standard wolf-attire of cut-off shorts and somehow we'd be able to talk like the best friends that – on some level – we would always be. I could almost hear his patronizing "Sure, sure." Sue's phone call had changed all that.

The grief in Seth's face – Seth, who always reminded me of a younger Jacob – was all I needed for my imagination to run wild in the wrong direction. I could clearly envision the way the hurt would twist Jacob's face, the way he would hate the tears. Hate them so much that he'd rather be a wild animal than face the pain.

A tear squeezed out from my clenched eyelids, and I knew Edward would perceive it – smell it or whatever. I hated my tears, too, but for different reasons than Jacob.

Sure enough, Edward paused his singing. His body was locked down in stress, waiting for an encore of my hysterics.

Twisting under the quilt, I turned so that I could bury my face against him, could lose myself in his heavenly scent. When I was reasonably sure my voice would be steady, I said, "I promised that wouldn't happen again."

Edward thawed out, his body relaxing, and he pulled me closer. "Yes," he murmured. "You did."

My arms tightened around his neck. "I'm sorry." It came out muffled, but I knew he'd hear.

He didn't answer, just stroked my hair.

"Forgive me?" I pressed

"There's nothing to forgive, Bella."

If his voice had been calm, I would have thought it a lie, but his affection and indulgence crept into the words. He truly meant it.

I nuzzled closer, my lips brushing against his cold collarbone. The sensation of touching him sent a wave of longing through me. I loved him and he loved me – unconditionally. He forgave me my stupidity, the pain that I managed to inflict left and right. When everyone, including my dad and myself, couldn't stand me, Edward loved me. Loved me enough to risk whatever hurt I might dish out, just to be close to me. The knowledge welled up in me and brought new tears – different ones – to my eyes. I wanted him to hold me tighter. I _needed_ him. I trailed kisses up his neck and over his jaw to his mouth Tangling my fingers in his hair, I pressed myself against him. I forgot to be careful, forgot that I wasn't supposed to be pushing any boundaries. Of their own accord, my fingers slid down his neck to fumble with the buttons on his shirt. The new tears rolled down my cheeks as the awareness of his love flowed through me.

His arms fell away from me. I broke off our kiss and looked uncomprehendingly into this pained eyes. He ducked my gaze, pressing his lips to the hollow at the base of my throat, but he wasn't quick enough. I'd already seen the hurt.

"What is it?"

He exhaled twice against my neck before he softly said, "Please, Bella. Not in reaction to Jacob Black."

Is that what he thought this was, some rebound thing? I squirmed down until I could look him in the eyes and then I pulled his hand up to my cheek so he could feel the saltwater. "These are happy tears, Edward. You make me so happy I'm crying. And I'm happy because you really, truly love me, even when I am a monster."

He raised a skeptical eyebrow. "You're in a love triangle with a werewolf and a vampire and you think _you're_ the monster?"

"Oh, knock it off," I grumbled, "before you make me stop crying. Just take my word for it, okay?" I kissed him again, and he tentatively returned it. "I need _you_," I whispered. "And I have you, even when everything else is falling apart. And that makes me happy."

I knew he understood when his lips quirked up in a crooked smile. "The way you regard me is ludicrous."

"That's backwards, you know."

"Is that so?"

I opened my mouth to say 'yes,' but Edward kissed me and I couldn't get a word in edgewise for the longest time. I didn't mind; I was too overwhelmed to argue.


	22. Twenty One

Bella looked up in surprise as I walked into the lobby of the Forks police department. Her eyes widened even more when she saw the two pizzas I was carrying. A flicker of humor lit her otherwise bleak expression. "Since when did you work as a delivery boy for Pacific Pizza?"

"Well, you know, gotta have a day job until a big music label signs me on," I deadpanned as I set two large drinks on Charlie's desk.

She shook her head and opened the box on top. The odor of bacon and sausage grew stronger. "Charlie's?" she guessed.

He was on the phone but his eyes lit up at the sight of food. It was almost eight o'clock in the evening. I gave the box to him and then, hand in hand with Bella, went back to the lobby. Choosing a chair out of his line of sight, I sat down and pulled her onto my lap. She inhaled deeply when I opened the box. "I was hungry for olives," she whispered.

"Courtesy of Alice."

She ate eagerly, not speaking again until she had downed a slice. "Having a psychic for a sister has a few advantages," she mumbled as she wiped her mouth with a napkin.

I leaned in closer, my lips brushing against her ear. "A few."

She shuddered and warmth radiated from her cheek.

"Thirsty?"

"Oh!" She hopped off my lap and stole one of the drinks off Charlie's desk. I hadn't needed Alice's help with this one – Bella liked root beer with her pizza. She settled into my embrace again with a contented sigh and a long pull on her drink. "Thank you."

"Anything for you, Bella. Even playing pizza delivery boy."

She rewarded me with a smile and went to work on another slice.

"Any progress?" I asked in a lower voice.

She grimaced and swallowed the bite she was chewing. "Not really. Billy still treats it like…almost like it's inevitable. It's really grating on Charlie's nerves. He's been on the phone with every neighboring city and county law enforcement office all day, and right now he's calling in a favor with a friend of his on the highway patrol."

She sighed wearily. Bella had been at my house earlier in the day, but we'd come into town to have lunch with Charlie, and then I'd again dropped her off here three hours ago. She wanted to be with me but her smiles were dim and infrequent, and she was almost restless, needing to be here and in the know. I was grateful for her reaction last night, now that I understood it. In the face of her obvious distress at Jacob's disappearance, I needed the reassurance.

For her sake, I'd spent the time apart doing what I could. "Emmett and I did some looking around. He caught Jacob's scent leading north; the trail smelled a couple of days old. We followed it for a little way, but it was clear Jacob hadn't lingered in the area. We could trace it farther if you really wanted, but he can outpace us if he decides to."

Bella snuggled closer, her fragile arms holding me tightly – for her. "No. Billy's right. We can't force him to come back. Thank you, though."

"It's the least I can do." I'd also taken advantage of Emmett's and my time alone to ask him for his perspective on what to expect on the honeymoon. But I wasn't about to tell Bella about _that_ conversation.

"Well it's more than Charlie's been able to come up with. He's just not letting it go, and I can't talk him out of trying to find Jake. I'm not sure whose head is going to explode first, his or mine."

I grimaced at the mental image and the corner of her lips twitched.

"You can go home if you want and just meet me back at my place later. You don't have to play the oblivious human and keep vigil with Charlie. This place is boring enough during the day."

"Actually, Alice suggested I take pity on both of you Swans and manipulate Charlie into calling it a night."

"Good luck with that." She rested her head on my shoulder.

I kissed the top of her head. "You think my powers of persuasion only work on women?"

Bella sniggered once, tried to hold it back, and then shook with giggles.

"What?"

Her laughter had an almost-hysterical edge. She'd been under too much strain this last twenty-four hours. "You're going to _dazzle_ Charlie?" She gasped for breath. "I should sell tickets!"

I rolled my eyes, grateful that Emmett wasn't here. He was bad enough about me 'going soft' by dazzling Bella. I could only imagine the fun he'd have with the idea of me dazzling my future father-in-law.

"How do you know I wasn't going to arm-wrestle him over it?"

Warm puffs of air washed over the base of my neck as she laughed. "Even better!"

The scent of her tears rippled through the air.

This was getting tiresome, this hurting Bella no matter what I did. I despised the mongrel and she bristled. I became allies with the werewolf, and she was terrified. I'd even become friends with him, treated him like a brother, and it backfired and now she was crying in my arms again.

Bella brushed the tears aside and her laughter hitched into something else before she could stop it. Just a sniffle or two, and she bottled herself up again. Would I ever stop paying for my blasphemy?

Even worse was the fact that I _wasn't_ the one paying for it. Bella – again – was hurt by my mistakes. Jacob, too, was in pain, and that was almost as inexcusable. He'd stitched her up when I left her bleeding. He'd kept her safe when I didn't. He had been generous enough to set aside both his aversion toward and rivalry with me in order to keep Bella safe. It had been his idea, in fact. I owed him not only Bella's life several times over, but also the survival of my family. He was a good person, an unlikely friend, and I hurt him, too.

Worst of all was that a small, monstrous part of me was viciously glad he was hundreds of miles away from the woman we both loved. I shouldn't feel that way, but I did, and it irritated me.

Charlie came around the corner from his office, stretching his hands over his head. "Thanks for the pizza, Edward. It's been a long day."

"No problem, Chief." I hesitated. Alice had asked for something in exchange for the help picking out pizzas tonight. It wasn't something I particularly relished, but I _did_ owe her. Besides, it was Esme's idea. "It's kind of bad timing, I know, but Alice and Esme were hoping you'd be free tomorrow night. It's supposed to be decently dry and warm, so they were thinking it'd be nice if you and Bella could join us for a little get-together up in the mountains."

"A get-together?" Charlie repeated.

"Nothing formal, just a bonfire, maybe some s'mores again. Esme in particular would like to spend some bonding-time with the father of her future daughter-in-law."

Bella's expression suddenly shifted from surprised to wistful, and the thought was clear to see in her eyes. _While we still can._

Charlie cast an uncertain glance at Bella and she managed a little smile. "I'd like to go."

"You sure, Bells? I mean, we still don't know a thing about Jacob…"

"I need a break, Dad. And you do, too. Like Billy said, Jake is making his own choices now."

He frowned. They'd had variations on that conversation all day long.

"We'll stay within range for cell phones, in case some news comes in," I said softly.

Charlie harrumphed, muttering about how that wouldn't do _him_ any good – _he_ didn't own a cell phone – and stalked back to his desk. "Fine, count us in."

"If you're going to be a while yet, I can drive Bella home for you."

That was all it took to convince him to go home – no dazzling or arm wrestling, just the idea of Bella and me spending an unsupervised evening together three weeks before the wedding. He was modern enough to suspect that Bella and I were…sexually active, but he was old-fashioned enough to object to it. How poorly he knew me. Honestly, I was _marrying_ Bella. A father should be more assertive than Charlie was about screening and knowing his daughter's suitors. Of course, weeding out the monsters would have been his first task, so maybe I should be grateful he was a bit lax.

"Naw," he grumbled, gathering up his things. "I'm calling it a night, too."

I stood up, and much to Charlie's annoyance, gave Bella a "good night kiss" warm enough to be convincing. "I'll see you later, Bella."

"Mm-hmm," she sighed, her wide eyes unfocused.

...

Charlie couldn't sleep. He tossed and turned, worrying about Jacob, but I risked entering the house anyway. Bella was on her back, her arm flung over her eyes. Distressed.

It was like thirst, this constant, grating awareness that she was hurting. Normally, I'd think it was something that time would ease, but I'd once thought that about her feelings toward me. Besides, time was something she was swiftly running out of. I worried that if she were changed now, this pain would be frozen into her heart, much like Rosalie's bitterness. I _had_ to make things right for her – the need was as constant as her hurt – but I just couldn't see _how_. And the clock was ticking. How could I possibly fix her broken heart? How could I ease her agony? All I could do to help was to hold her.

I sat beside her on the bed and took her hand in mine, turning her palm up and kissing her wrist. She sighed and I lifted my eyes to see her warm smile. Turning her hand again, I kissed her ring. _For better or for worse,_ I would be here for her.

Bella scooted over to make room for me, but I said, "Charlie's still awake."

"Yeah," she answered, grimacing, "I'm having trouble sleeping, too."

I turned so I was sitting with my back to the headboard, my legs stretched out beside her. She sat up and snuggled closer. "What is he thinking?"

"Who?"

"Charlie."

I'd never mentioned that Charlie's thoughts were muffled to me, partly because I didn't make it a habit to gossip about others' thoughts, but mostly because I suspected she was pleased by being uniquely silent to me. I didn't want her to feel she wasn't special because it would have been a lie. She truly was singularly remarkable. "Mostly he's remembering outings with Billy and Jacob."

"Happy memories," she said wistfully.

I didn't answer, simply held her instead.

"He'll come home eventually," she murmured, her eyes distant. Then her exquisite lips turned down, and she bit her lip. She was probably worrying about the same things I was. Would he come home before the wedding or after? Before her change or after? And what would his reaction be when he saw her standing stone-still before him with vivid scarlet eyes? Would he try to kill her? Would I have to kill him to protect her? Or would he come with the pack and begin the war that we'd avoided for so long?

She leaned back, eying me suspiciously. "So what's the deal with our little adventure in the great outdoors tomorrow?"

The girl always surprised me with the directions her silent thoughts took. I shrugged. "Esme felt it would be the most comfortable place to socialize, seeing how your father is an avid outdoorsman."

"But why bother in the first place?"

I gave her a lopsided grin. "Isn't it customary for the father of the bride to know the groom's family?"

She huffed with a sour expression.

"Alice thinks it will be good for your dad," I explained, and as I hoped, that reassurance mollified her a bit. "I'd rather he not throw something at me during the wedding."

"He wouldn't dare," she growled with adorable indignation.

"Probably not, but if at all possible, I'd like there to be _some_ good feelings between us. He already thinks highly of Alice. Knowing you'll have Esme watching out for you, too, might soften him even more. It couldn't hurt."

Charlie began snoring.

"Just you watch," she grumbled. "I'll cut my finger again or something."

I kissed the scar on her fingertip that was too faint for her to see. "Not a chance." I knew to watch her more closely now.

Bella's hand hovered over my cheek, and I leaned into the welcoming warmth of her touch. "You sure it's not just an attempt to distract me?" she guessed.

That ever-present pain was hidden deep in her eyes. On the surface, her expression was amused and indulgent.

"Bella, love, I can think of much better ways to distract you."

The light in her eyes danced. "Mmm. Do tell."

I slipped my arm behind her back and, holding her against me, shifted us both to lying on the bed. Brushing my fingertips against her cheek, I said, "I think a demonstration might be more effective."


	23. Twenty

Many thanks to ImprintedIsh, Kateydidnt, and Tersaseda for all helping me with this chapter! You ladies rock! :)

There are several stories recounted in this chapter, and all but three of them are based on factual events from my own family history (names and some minor details have been changed to protect the guilty). :) Esme's and Alice's stories are canon, and Carlisle's is a reference to my fic "Pilgrim." You can read Charlie's POV on this night in my companion fic, "Fathers," which will be going up tomorrow.

These wonderful characters belong to the brilliant Stephenie Meyer. I'm only playing with them. I'll be sure to put them away when I'm done. (No copyright infringement is intended, only admiration.)

* * *

I sat in the dancing light of the bonfire, perfectly content. Partly, it was because – after several attempts – I'd managed to catch Seth at home when both his mom and Leah were out. After 'fessing up that I was the one who'd been ditching calls for the last few days, I finally got his first-hand account that Jacob really was safe. The news breathed life into that crumpled part of my heart – I could go on now. I still worried, of course, but I knew he wasn't lying in a ditch somewhere and that the pack was keeping a few pairs of eyes on him. I wished I could give my dad that same reassurance, but I had to settle for being upbeat and hoping that my mood would rub off on him.

The biggest reason I was content, though, was because I was curled up on Edward's lap and a blanket was draped over the both of us. It allowed me to let my hands roam a little bit without anyone seeing. Jasper cast us an amused smile, but Edward smirked in return.

Charlie was in a camp-chair looking incredibly ill-at-ease. Maybe it was because he was surrounded by vampires who were scattered in a loose circle around the fire, sitting on logs or large stones. Maybe it was because he'd offered the oldest of those vampires a beer and he'd declined. More likely, it was because he hated social gatherings.

After a short, awkward silence, Esme said, "So tell us a little about yourself, Charlie. Have you always lived in Forks?"

Charlie tried to crack a smile, but ended up sort of grimacing. "Not always. I was actually born in South Dakota, but both my parents were from Illinois. We moved around a bit when I was little, but they came here before I started school and I've lived here ever since."

That seemed to pique Carlisle's interest for some reason. "What part of Illinois?"

"Near Waukegan on Lake Michigan. It's more or less a suburb of Chicago now, but back then it was in the boondocks. My dad was in love with the wild outdoors. He worked in the shipping industry on the Great Lakes until he met my mother. She'd lost a brother on the Lakes and didn't like the idea of him sailing out there every day, so they moved around as he tried out a few different careers. Eventually, he became a park service ranger and moved here to Washington. It had everything – mountains, the ocean, and mild winters for mom." He shrugged. "We stayed."

I glanced up at Edward, speculating. I'd forgotten that my Grandma and Grandpa Swan were originally from Illinois. It was kind of funny that Edward's and my family histories were so close geographically.

"What did you say your father's name was?" Carlisle's curiosity would seem idle courtesy unless, like me, you were already suspicious. I could practically feel that there was a story here.

"Geoffrey Swan."

"I have roots in Illinois," Carlisle murmured, a smile playing on his lips. "We'll have to compare notes sometime."

We lapsed again into silence.

Emmett leaned back and looked at the stars. "Hey Bella, did I ever tell you the story about my Grandpa McCarty?"

Wondering what kind of crazy punchline he'd come up with, I shook my head. "No, I don't think so."

"His name was Emmett too. This was during the Great Depression, and it was his first trip to the big city. He found his way to a speak-easy and got hopelessly plastered. On his way back to the hotel, he fell asleep on the trolley-car. When they got to the end of the line, the conductor found him and told him to get off. Grandpa Emmett refused and forced the conductor off the trolley at knife-point."

I stared across the fire into Emmett's twinkling amber eyes and my jaw fell open. It wasn't _Grandpa_ Emmett who had done that, I realized. I chuckled breathlessly – I could all-too-easily imagine human Emmett pulling a stunt like that. "What did he do then?"

Emmett winked. "Then he drove the trolley back to his hotel and went inside, leaving the trolley-car right there in the middle of the street. He slept off that hangover in the clink!"

Charlie and I both laughed at that one, and Esme shook her head with an indulgent smile.

"That sounds about right," Edward added. "The way Emmett tells it, Grandpa McCarty was the original Paul Bunyan."

"He was the outdoorsy type, too?" Charlie asked.

"Well," Emmett drawled, "there are stories that he liked to rassle grizzlies."

"But no one believes those," Rosalie cracked.

With a broad grin, Emmett nudged Rosalie with his shoulder. "Come on, Rose. You've got to have a story or two worth telling."

She thought for a moment, and then glanced furtively at me. "There was the time my Grandma was asked out by three boys in the same day."

I flushed with embarrassment, remembering the day that Mike, Eric, and Tyler had all asked me to the prom. It seemed forever ago – before the newborns, before the Volturi, before Edward left, even before James and Victoria. What would Rosalie have thought about my line of suitors back then? Whatever it was, the wry humor in her eyes made that shared experience a bonding moment now. "What happened?" I wondered with a tentative smile of my own.

"Well, when Grandma was fifteen or so, three different boys asked on the same day to court her."

"She was quite a looker," Emmett interrupted with a wink at me.

Rosalie rolled her eyes, looking flattered. "She told them all 'yes' and then said 'meet me at the corner of Elm and Main at four o'clock.' Then Grandma arrived 10 minutes early and bought herself a drink at the soda-fountain across the street. She had a great time for the next half-hour or so watching the ensuing fight."

I barked out a laugh, drowning out the others' chuckles. Now why couldn't I be as quick on my feet as that? Not that I'd _want_ to see Tyler whomping on Eric, but it was just so…witty.

Jasper grinned. "Well _my_ favorite story is about Grandpa Hale and the cherry-bombs."

Emmett and Edward both groaned.

"It was a Fourth of July back in the 1950's and he and his _younger_ brothers were playing frog-men in the lake, throwing bottle rockets and cherry bombs at each other."

After seeing their Fourth of July festivities this year, I could envision the scene Jasper was describing all too well.

"They're lucky they didn't get hurt!" Charlie blurted out.

"They were extraordinarily lucky," Jasper said, to a ripple of laughter. Rosalie frowned, though. "Well, one of Grandpa Hale's munitions went wild and landed under the chair of the minister's wife up on the patio. She was a very staid woman and she was irritated with how rambunctious the boys were being. The cherry bomb went off with a huge bang and she jumped clean out of the chair." Jasper laughed, a mischievous glint in his eye. "And that's how he blew up the preacher's wife!"

I snickered and Charlie laughed freely. I bet Jasper had to use his talent to weasel his way out of that one.

"What about you, Esme?" I eagerly asked, enjoying the impromptu storytelling. She spoke so little of her own history. "Do you have a favorite story from your family?"

She smiled up at Carlisle. "Hmm. There are quite a few worth telling. I think my favorite will always be the girl who met her husband by falling out of a tree." She turned her radiant smile to Charlie then, determined to include him. "She was a rebellious sixteen-year-old with dreams of adventure. She and her parents had an altercation, so she hid from them in a tree for over an hour. When she finally realized how silly she was being, she started to climb down, but she slipped and fell, breaking her leg in several places. One of the doctors who oversaw her recovery was a handsome young man directly out of medical school. Even though he was _quite_ a bit older then she was, they fell in love and eventually married."

Charlie smiled back at her. "You sure know a lot about your families, especially..."

Alice looked at him shrewdly. Of course she'd already seen what the rest of his sentence would be. "Especially for being orphans?"

"I was going to say, for being so young." Charlie blushed red to the ears. "But now that you mention it..."

Alice wasn't upset, of course. "Well, we still have extended family, you know, and it's amazing what you can learn doing research on your own. For instance, I found out the lady I'm named after was locked up in a loony bin!" She laughed lightly. "Can you believe it?"

Charlie's smile faltered for a moment, and I felt more than heard Edward's amused laugh at whatever my dad was thinking. "What?" I whispered.

He leaned down, brushing his lips over my ear, and whispered, "Later."

Charlie narrowed his eyes at us, so I decided to redirect him. "What about you, Carlisle?" I asked eagerly. "One I haven't heard yet." Though if any Swans and Cullens _had_ crossed paths somewhere in the past, I was sure Carlisle wouldn't tell that story here.

Carlisle's eyes were bright with memory. "Did I ever tell you about Reverend Cullen, the first of my family to arrive in the New World?"

"No," I answered, unable to keep the scolding tone out of my voice.

"This was back in the 1720's. He'd arrived in Boston after six _very_ long weeks at sea and read one of the Silence Dogood letters in the local newspaper. Moved with compassion for the widow Dogood, he went to the print-shop and asked where to give alms to this good, Christian woman. It turns out that the Dogood letters were written by a lad at the print-shop – one Benjamin Franklin."

I gaped at him, even more floored than I was by Emmett's hijacking of the trolley. "You..." I stumbled to correct myself for Charlie's sake, "your ancestor _knew_ Benjamin Franklin."

Carlisle laughed heartily. "Yes. What's more, when Reverend Cullen forced a confession from the teenage Ben Franklin, he gave the boy the alms plus a little more, warning him his wit was too sharp to last long in Boston."

I could feel how huge my eyes were. I knew in an abstract sense how old Carlisle was, but to realize he'd met _Benjamin Franklin_ – a _teenage_ Ben Franklin – face-to-face put it in a very different perspective.

"What about you and Bella, Charlie?" Esme asked. "Do you have any favorite family stories?"

I recovered a little, managing a grin. "My favorite is about the resourceful man who ran out of gas while on a fishing trip."

Charlie hid his head in his hands. "Not that one, Bella."

I laughed at his embarrassment. "It's not that bad, Dad. I could tell worse." Then I smiled at the rest of them. "When I was ten or so, Dad and I were out in the mountains somewhere fishing with..." I hesitated, then choked the word out, "...the Blacks. We were about five miles from civilization when the truck ran out of gas."

I cocked my head at him. "Come to think of it, that was _my_ truck, wasn't it?"

He nodded. "But that was at least one engine ago."

I laughed in disbelief that it was the same truck. "Well anyway, Billy offered to start walking, but Dad says, 'No, it's too far.' So he rummaged around in the back for a bit and pulled out a can of Coleman fuel that we'd brought for the grill. He dumped it into the fuel tank and turned the engine over."

Charlie grinned, finally getting into it. "Billy told me later that, when he saw me put the key in the ignition, he thought I was going to blow sky-high, along with all the kids."

Rosalie was astounded. "You ran a car on _Coleman fuel_? That must have torn the engine to shreds!"

"It wasn't pretty," Charlie agreed, "let me tell you. I'd never felt an engine run that rough, but it brought us all the way to the next gas station."

I chuckled, reliving the memory. "But when he turned off the truck, the engine didn't stop. We had to sit there in the gas station until the thing finally burned up all that gas."

"We actually got better mileage with the Coleman fuel," he added.

When the laughter subsided, I eagerly looked up at Edward. "What about you, Edward? Do you have a story for us?"

"I'm sure you'd rather have the s'mores."

I nudged him with my shoulder, careful not to push too hard and bruise it. "Actually, I want a story first."

"Tell her about the cadaver," Emmett suggested, a wicked edge to his smile. I could almost imagine him mentally adding, _or I will._

Edward shook his head at him in aggravation and then heaved a resigned sigh. Turning his golden eyes on me, he smiled a little and said, "My great-uncle was studying medicine, and one of his fellow students was an arrogant know-it-all –"

"Not like _anyone_ we know," Emmett muttered.

Edward continued as if he hadn't heard him, "and very rude to the nurses they worked with. So my uncle arranged for a little prank to take him down a peg or two. When a new batch of cadavers came in to their medical school, my uncle started talking up how scary the lab was and convinced two of the nurses and the know-it-all to sneak into the lab after-hours. The nurses were in on it, but unbeknownst to his rude classmate, my uncle had already been there and discreetly tied a bit of fishing line to some of the tendons in a cadaver's arm. The nurses pretended they were scared, and the know-it-all was really hamming it up until the cadaver started moving. He ran screaming from the room, and the story spread like wildfire. He was always a bit more respectful after that."

Everyone – even Charlie – laughed at that, except Carlisle. He was giving Edward a stern look, and Edward shrugged once with an apologetic smile.

I guess Carlisle hadn't heard that one before.

"Who wants s'mores?" Alice cheerfully asked. For some reason, she seemed to think it was impossible for humans to have a bonfire without them.

I smiled wryly at the perfectly-faked excitement as my vampires passed around roasting forks and chocolate bars. The things they did for me…

Charlie continued the story-telling as he toasted his marshmallow, regaling them with humiliating tales of me as a young child. He'd just gotten to the part when the Arizona Department of Child and Family Services showed up on Renee's doorstep because I'd been in the ER five days in a row when Emmett's marshmallow caught fire. He met my eyes with a panicked look.

Surely he remembered roasting marshmallows. "Just put it out," I laughed.

So he shook it, harder than he meant to no doubt, and it flew off his fork to land in Rosalie's hair with a sizzling splat. Charlie straightened in his chair, worry in his eyes, but everyone else thought it was hysterical. Well, almost everyone. Suddenly Carlisle was on his feet. "You know, Charlie, I think I _could_ use a beer right about now. Let's walk down to the truck."

…

As soon as Carlisle and Charlie were out of sight, Rosalie pulled the log out from under Emmett and broke it over his head. Edward was shaking so hard with laughter my teeth were rattling. So this was what vampire family fights were like.

"Rose! It was an accident!" Emmett hissed, looking ridiculous as he sat in the dirt, brushing bark out of his hair.

"Behave, you two!" Esme scolded.

"It's disgusting!" Rosalie gingerly touched the white blob, covering her fingers in marshmallow goo. Growling, she lifted what was left of the log for another blow, and Emmett caught it, yanking it away from her. She fell back when it jerked out of her hand, knocking Jasper off his own rock.

Jasper scrambled onto his feet and caught Rosalie's arm. "Calm down, will you?"

She visibly relaxed under Jasper's influence, but when he let her go, she narrowed her eyes, shoving him hard against the tree behind him. "No. I have _food_ in my hair! I'm going to smell like _food_ the whole way home!"

Emmett looked up at Edward, and some silent communication passed between them. Edward nodded and placed me on Esme's lap.

Safely perched on her rock, Alice began giggling.

"Stay," Edward commanded me. Then to Esme, "Keep her safe."

Esme laughed at him. "Would you please just sit down?"

"Got a little job to do first," he winked.

Rosalie glared at Alice, who was having a hard time staying upright, she was laughing so hard. "A little help here, sister?"

"Not on your life," she snorted.

Rosalie watched them warily as Emmett and Edward spread out on opposite sides of her. Jasper wasn't sure of the exact plan, but he stepped up to fill the gap, watching Emmett for a cue. Rosalie was surrounded now.

"I don't know what you're planning, Emmett McCarty Cullen, but..."

"Don't worry, sweetheart." Emmett's grin was positively wicked. "We're just gonna wash your hair."

Her voice jumped an octave. "You wouldn't dare!"

I blinked, and suddenly Emmett flew through the air several yards with a sharp crack. He stood up, rubbing his jaw, but Edward and Jasper had caught Rosalie and wrestled her off her feet. She kicked and snarled, but they managed to keep hold of her as they carried her, staggering, toward the creek a few yards away. She got an arm loose, and Emmett grabbed her.

"Come on, Rose," he jibed. "You don't want to smell like _food_ do you?"

"PUT ME DOWN!" she shrieked.

"Care to help, Alice?" Edward taunted.

Alice laughed all the harder. "Not on your life!" she repeated. But she did tag along to watch.

Esme sighed. "The _werewolves_ were probably more civilized than this!"

I grinned until I realized Esme was actually embarrassed. "Not really," I assured her. "Jacob almost literally bit Paul's head off when he took a snap at me and Sam had to break it up. It was the first time I saw a werewolf phase. Scared the tar out of me."

She looked at me in alarm. "You were that close?"

"Well, you know me, the danger magnet. If I'm not tempting Edward, then I'm punching werewolves or inciting newborn armies."

Esme smiled affectionately and stroked my hair. "Or jumping off cliffs or parading through the Volturi's dining room."

"It'll probably be a train next."

She grinned. "I hope not. At least, not until you're a vampire too. It will ease my mind considerably when you're not so fragile."

I never thought about how much Esme must fret over me, the only one of her children who was mortal. "All I have to do is survive the wedding," I pointed out.

She gave me a mock-reproving look. "Most people would mean that metaphorically, Bella."

A shriek and some splashing told me they'd reached the creek.

"She's not going to forgive this anytime soon, is she?"

Esme wrinkled her nose. "She'll take it out on Emmett. Be grateful you live several miles away."

Both Rosalie and Emmett were drenched to the bone when they got back to the fire. He was still laughing, but Rosalie was strutting with wounded dignity. I was sure that, even as a vampire, I'd look like a drowned rat after something like that, but Rosalie was still beautiful, and her clothes clung to her like she'd just stepped off a shoot for a Sports Illustrated calendar.

Half of Jasper's shirt was wet, too, but Edward was impeccable as ever. Alice would have been dry if she weren't riding on Jasper's back, chattering happily with her soul-mate. The way she had her arms wrapped around him was almost…protective. With the way Rosalie glared at him, it wasn't hard to guess where the danger was coming from.

Edward scooped me up into his arms and draped the blanket over us again. Alice's perch on Jasper's back brought back memories about the battle against the newborns, about Edward's incredulous look when I told him that, next time, I'd do my part. But the thought of him actually _being_ in danger, of him _needing_ my help was too terrible to contemplate. As long as I was just protecting him from Rosalie or Alice, though….

…

The party broke up when Charlie and Carlisle returned. Rose and Emmett had left already, since humans would be freezing if they were soaked through like that. Charlie was quiet on the ride home. Thoughtful.

When we got inside, he paused in the kitchen. "Bella?"

"Yeah?"

"Carlisle's a good man. A good role-model for Edward."

This was a surprise, but I couldn't agree with him more. In fact, it was quite an understatement. "Yes, he is."

"I know I've been hard on Edward. And I still think the way he left you was…well, wrong doesn't even begin to cover it. But…I guess what I'm saying is…when it comes to in-laws, anyway, you could do worse."

That was the closest I'd heard Charlie come to complimenting Edward since before James caught up to me in Phoenix. "Um…thanks. What brought this on?"

"Carlisle and I had a chance to really talk. Thank Esme for setting that up, will you? I'm glad we went."

I stared. "Okay."

He nodded once and yawned as he turned to climb the stairs. "Good night, Bells."


	24. Nineteen

Bella startled awake with a soft, frightened cry, and I said, "You're safe. Sh. It's okay."

She clung to me, burying her face in my shoulder, and I gently stroked her hair.

"It was just a dream. A bad dream," she said, as though trying to reassure herself.

"Yes. Just a dream."

Her pulse gradually slowed, and her breathing evened out. The curiosity about her last few words before waking up was all but eating me alive. "Do you want to talk about it?" I finally risked asking.

She froze and then lifted her gaze to mine. "It was just another nightmare, Edward."

"About butterflies?"

She grimaced. "It was scary at the time."

Didn't she realize she was just exacerbating the curiosity? "I'm trying to picture it."

"It's stupid. It was one of those things that just doesn't make sense when you're awake but made perfect sense inside the dream."

"Oh, of course. I have dreams like that all the time."

She stuck her tongue out at me and grumbled, "Fine." The heat of her blush warmed my face. "Remember when we went over to the Weber's today?"

I smiled, remembering. We'd gone to settle some details with Mr. Weber about the vows and logistics, since we wouldn't be having a rehearsal dinner. Angela had pulled Bella aside and told Bella how happy she was for her and said that Bella would make a great mom…someday. Bella had all but lit into the poor girl about how we _weren't_ expecting and we were marrying for _love_. I had to admit I was chagrinned that even Angela would assume the rumors were true, but the thought of Bella as a mother was so…heart-warming. Angela was appropriately contrite and assured Bella that she was just offering a vote of confidence in our future and in Bella herself.

I held her closer, running a soothing hand down her silken hair. "I remember."

"You were in Mr. Weber's office the whole time, so you probably didn't see it, but one of the twins was playing this computer game with giant robot butterflies that stole people's toys. It creeped me out."

I could feel the incredulity on my face.

"You kind of had to be there," she mumbled, burying herself against my shoulder again. "The whole thing was just…disturbingly cheerful. Or cheerfully disturbing. Take your pick."

"No, I get it," I said solemnly. "Giant robot butterflies. It makes complete sense. Utterly terrifying, especially to a woman who's marrying a vampire. I _am_ curious, though." I waited until she leaned back to warily look me in the eyes. "What toys were they stealing from you?"

She rolled her eyes with an embarrassed laugh. "They weren't _stealing_ things. They were throwing things at me. Pillow shams, ironing boards, silver spoons."

Hers was the most baffling, eccentric, incomprehensible mind a human being could possess.

"Bridal shower gifts," she explained, blushing so deeply that I could almost see the heat radiating off her.

I burst out in quiet laughter. "Feeling a bit apprehensive, are we?" Esme had approached Bella today about throwing her a bridal shower. Apparently her subconscious had interpreted that literally.

"It's not funny," she huffed.

I sighed affectionately. "If it's giving you nightmares, you're right, it's not. I'll tell Esme – "

"No!" she hissed. "You can't! I know she's been disappointed that I'm not really into the whole wedding thing, and this was her idea. I'll just…grin and bear it."

"For" versus "to," again. For her, this was just another trial to endure. To her, this was an important gesture by her future mother-in-law. I was so grateful to Esme for unraveling that little mystery for me.

"Esme would be distressed if she knew her plans were giving you nightmares. It's something she'd want to know. And she won't be offended if you wanted to cancel the bridal shower. It's still two weeks out and the invitations haven't been sent yet. Besides, it's not like we're going to register for gifts."

"But you know people will bring them anyway." She sighed heavily. "No, it was just a stupid little aberration in my brain. Another one. Besides, if Alice is going to have her fun, Esme should, too. Her idea of fun is guaranteed to be less embarrassing."

"If you're sure."

"Positive."

I stroked her hair again. "Then rest, love."

"Yeah, right." Bella glanced at the clock; it read 4:30 AM. She'd only been asleep for about three hours. With a groan, she threw back her covers and rolled to her feet.

"Where are you going?"

"Human minute," she muttered.

Ah.

When she returned from the bathroom, I tucked her in and began humming her lullaby. With a contented sigh that warmed my still heart, she curled up against my chest and closed her eyes. I stared up at the ceiling, lost in her warmth. I could live an eternity in this moment.

I expected Bella to drift off to sleep quickly – more often than not she didn't remember it the next morning when she had a nightmare. But her pulse didn't slow, and after a few minutes, she began to trace idle patterns on my chest. Her touch through the fabric of my shirt left burning trails that lingered.

The lullaby died in my throat when, a moment later, Bella rose up on one elbow and pressed her moist mouth to my collarbone.

"Bella?" I whispered.

"Hmm?" Her lips wandered down from my collarbone as far as my button-down shirt would let her. She couldn't go far; I only had the top button open.

"You need your rest."

She lifted her head, and her eyes danced in the lavender light. "In a minute." She draped herself over my chest and trailed kisses down the side of my neck to the edge of my collar.

Breathless, I wrapped my arms around her.

She continued, kissing around the base of my throat to the hollow above my other collarbone. Her moist tongue flicked once across my skin, and a very ungentlemanly moan escaped my lips.

I shouldn't be permitting this. When Bella was this bold, it was far too exciting. Irresistible. But I rationalized that she was in charge of responsibility and that I needed the practice at being passive.

The tip of her nose trailed up the front of my throat and her lips found mine. How I wanted her! But when I held her more tightly, she exhaled sharply. Too much pressure – even the rehearsing was dangerous. The reminder cooled some of my ardor.

Bella wasn't put off, though. Her lips wandered down my neck until her chin was tugging at the edge of my shirt again.

Impulsively, I undid the next button.

With something between a whimper and a moan, Bella enthusiastically began peppering my shoulders with warm kisses. My breath was coming quickly now, and I let my arms fall away from her. I was too distracted to be holding her, too swept away to risk anything more than the lightest touch.

She fumbled one-handed with the next button but couldn't manage to get it open. Resting her elbows on my chest, she tried again but lost her balance. Reflexively I moved to catch her, and the button popped off my shirt, whizzing across the room. For one stunned heartbeat, we listened as the button clattered to the floor in the depths of her closet, and then we both burst out in soft laughter.

"Well that's embarrassing," she giggled, blushing furiously.

"I can't go home like this," I laughed. "Alice will say I'm something out of a bodice-ripper romance novel!"

"Does that mean I did the bodice-ripping?" Bella sniggered.

I carefully pried her away and went to search in her closet for the button. "Tell me you have a sewing kit of some kind," I pleaded.

"Sure," she answered, still sniggering, and went to rummage in the linen closet at the top of the stairs.

The button had somehow managed to roll to the back of the closet, naturally, and I had to dig to find it. Straightening, I set it on her computer desk and pulled off my shirt so I could repair it.

After a moment, Bella returned with a shoe-box full of some small spools of thread, a pincushion, a couple of needles stuck in a folded-up index card, and some scissors. She flipped on the overhead light and blinked for a moment as her eyes adjusted. And then blinked for a moment more. I'd stood shirtless in front of the most powerful coven on earth and hadn't felt self-conscious at all, but seeing Bella's eyes widen now made me feel almost…shy. I shouldn't have taken the shirt off. I didn't want to push the boundaries – or rather, I had agreed I wouldn't. Even for me, though, repairing the shirt with it on would be a challenge. Too late now. Better to do what needed doing and get dressed again.

I crossed the room and gently took the box from her hands. She wordlessly followed as I sat in the computer chair and tried to find a color of thread that would make a passable match. I only had to get home and to my room without anyone noticing so I could change.

Bella picked up a spool of light blue thread that would work and then reached for the scissors. I snatched them out from under her hand. She wouldn't be handling anything in that box, not on my watch. "Allow me."

"Oh, right," she murmured, crossing her arms and leaning against the desk. "Because Alice made you major in fashion design with her."

I shook my head in exasperation as I measured a length of thread and snipped it off. "How'd you guess?"

"Really?" she squeaked.

I hesitated for an eighth of a second as I threaded the needle. It was still a challenge because I couldn't wet the thread by putting it in my mouth. Venom is hard on natural fibers. "Yes. 1972 to '74. The whole experience is a nightmare I try to forget."

"I was being sarcastic."

"I wish I were. Polyester was all the rage back then." And Alice and I had had discovered that venom did even worse things to plastic-based cloth. Not to mention all the unwanted attention I garnered in a female-dominated major.

I pierced the fabric, quickly securing the button again. "There. Good as new."

I snipped off the excess thread and poked the needle into its index card again. While I was doing that, Bella picked up the shirt to examine my handiwork.

"I sewed on a button, for crying out loud," I groused as I returned everything to the box. "I could do that even when I was a mere mortal."

Glancing up, though, I realized Bella had another motive. She was now wearing my shirt over her tank-top, the short sleeves reaching almost to her elbow. My first thought was that I rather liked seeing her in my clothing. My second was that I'd have to take the shirt off her to get it back, and that led to a whole series of mental images that were far from virtuous. My third thought was that, in another nineteen nights, I _would_ be taking Bella's clothes off; I shied away from that idea, recognizing it would be nothing but trouble. My fourth thought was that Bella was biting her lip and eyeing my bare chest and that meant I was in trouble already.

Blushing to her ears, she hesitantly sat on my lap and, resting her head against my shoulder, wrapped her arms around my ribs. My breath caught; I was encircled in her fire.

She turned her face, kissing my collarbone again. "This is nice."

"Mmm. A bit better than nice," I breathlessly agreed, pulling her closer. "But I wasn't trying to make things harder for you, Bella."

She leaned away chuckling, her scorching hands sliding around to rest against my chest. "I was the one ripping your clothes off, remember? Besides…"

Her hands slid together up my chest over my breastbone and then onto my shoulders. Her soft, warm touch sent a ripple of pleasure over my skin. I shuddered.

"…I think I can handle this."

Another excuse to be selfish – the girl was a master at them.

She suddenly pulled her hands away, genuine concern in her eyes. "Can you?"

If I couldn't then I had no business going on a honeymoon with her. I tipped her face up to mine and softly kissed her. "I think I'll manage."

With a heart-melting sigh, she returned my kiss, her arms encircling me again. The sheer pleasure of her touch was stunning – the willing warmth, the soft gentleness of her skin. My own hands rested on her waist under my shirt. That was a thrill all its own, though my hands weren't under _her_ shirt. I trailed my fingertips up her ribs and she broke off the kiss, gasping for breath. Her lips continued down my throat; her staccato pulse beat against my will.

_Could_ I manage? The sudden thought was deadly serious. Tonight I would be fine – probably – but could I manage to not hurt her when I wasn't the only one missing a shirt? When the soft curves and elegant lines of her body were no longer concealed and merely hinted at? I allowed myself to imagine her then, to actually visualize the moonlight on her pale translucent skin. Could I manage to feel the pleasure of her wandering hands _everywhere_ without losing my focus? I was trusting Alice's confidence that Bella wouldn't be harmed, but what about that three percent? Could I hedge this insane gamble any further?

Practice, another part of my mind whispered – the part that, though not human, was still definitely a man.

Bella leaned back, her cheeks flushed with a devastatingly lovely pink and her quick breath drawing even more attention to her hidden curves. "You're moping, aren't you."

"Worrying," I corrected with reluctant honesty. I wish I wasn't worrying all the time – that I had no cause to worry.

The flush deepened to an embarrassed blush, and her hands fell to her lap. "I'm sorry." She hung her head.

I was hurting her _again_. Cradling her to my chest, I carried her to the bed. It was utterly inexcusable that my weakness was _again_ causing her pain. I placed her in her bed, stretching out beside her, and kissed her. Gently. I wasn't ready for abandon yet – I couldn't allow that while she was still human – but it was physically painful to think I'd hurt her feelings. How could the most beautiful, interesting woman I'd met in a century of existence be so insecure?

"I only worry because I love you," I murmured, kissing her lips, her cheeks, her forehead.

I could hear the smile in her voice. "Can't you find another way to show me you love me?"

I wish!

Bella reached out, her fingertips dragging an intoxicating ripple of pleasure down my ribs. Suddenly I was the one gasping.

"That works," she breathlessly laughed.

I rolled onto my back, pulling her against my bare skin, and trailed kisses down her neck with a soft growl. With sudden clarity, I knew I wouldn't be able hold my focus – I _knew_ it – not when just being shirtless against her tank top overwhelmed me with wits-scrambling pleasure.

"Even better," she murmured.

I held her to me, letting my hand rest heavily on the small of her back. I kissed and teased her lips, practicing. Because even knowing I wouldn't be able to focus, I was selfish enough to still go through with our plan. Selfish enough to want this, to want _her_. Impossibly, I craved her more than I did when I tried to seduce her. The warmth from her excited body poured over me, and I could feel my skin absorbing the heat, leaving a mark that would haunt me later.

She shivered violently, and I was reminded of the one and only thing more compelling than the pleasure. Bella herself.

"I'm not cold!" she fumed, but her lips trembled, and I carefully maneuvered her off my chest and onto the bed.

I kissed her once – a hard, frustrated kiss – and then rolled to my feet. I retrieved the afghan from the foot of the bed and draped it over her, placing another layer of insulation between us.

Nineteen more nights. I'd waited more than a century for her. I could wait nineteen nights. At least, that's what I told myself.

Lying down again, I smoothed her hair. "You really are too exquisite for your own good."

Bella sighed, briefly pursing her lips in annoyance before she had to regain her breath. "And you really are too good of a liar," she inexplicably retorted. Seeing my confusion, she scoffed, "Exquisite. One of these days I might actually believe you."

I pulled her into my arms again, irritated by the rough, necessary blanket that kept her skin from mine. Her warmth enticed me still, and I cupped her face in my hand, stroking her cheekbone with my thumb. Her heart, which had been slowing down, sped up again, and I smiled. "Blind human."


	25. Sixteen

I slammed my purse down on the kitchen table and threw myself into a chair, hiding my face in my hands. Dead. Gone. It couldn't be!

These things happened, I knew. The whole, stupid cycle of life thing. But this one was my first. You don't just recover from losing something like this overnight. We had a bond. We'd been through _everything_ together. And now, just like that, my trusty friend and storied companion was dead, its lifeblood spilled down a two-mile stretch of road ending where the engine had finally seized. A fatal oil-leak. An engine aneurism.

Dead.

Edward and his stupid, shiny Volvo had arrived about three minutes after I'd opened the hood in a futile effort to figure out what was wrong. Alice had seen my truck die and sent him. He stood behind me now, silently stroking my hair, letting me grieve.

It had served Jacob from the time he was a baby. It had served Charlie and me, too, when we were out fishing with the Blacks. It had been my very first car – forget Prom, _that_ was a true rite of passage. Even more than that, the welcoming cab of that truck was the only place in the whole world that was truly my own. My room here belonged to the ghost of marriages past, and my childhood home in Arizona was now occupied by a family of four, but that truck was _mine_. My sanctuary. My freedom.

Sure, it had lived a full life. Besides whatever else it had witnessed before I came along, it had been driven by vampires _and_ werewolves. How many cars could claim that?

The truck had been there the fateful day Edward saved me from Tyler's van. It had even been a part of the drama. And it was the only vehicle tough enough to be drivable afterward. It had been the last witness before I left for the meadow with Edward, and the first time I'd ever heard his archangel voice singing was when we were listening to the truck's radio.

It had helped me escape from James. It had been torn up when I had been, after Edward left and I ripped the stereo out. It had been my freedom when I ran to Jacob during my dark ages and was my co-conspirator, helping me transport my contraband motorcycle. It had been there the first time I saw a werewolf phase.

And Edward repaired the gutted cab when he came back just like he healed me.

Beyond all that, it was very much a part of my human life. I drove it to work and when I went grocery shopping. What was I going to do without it? Oh yeah. Edward was going to buy me a _new car._ Some fast, shiny sports car with a thumping stereo and good acoustics that was all flash and no personality.

This couldn't be the end. It couldn't!

I turned to look up at him. "Isn't there anything we can do?"

He crouched down beside me, sitting on his heels. "Bella, parts of the engine are literally melted."

"So can't we…get a new engine or something?" It'd be cheaper than getting me a new car, probably by a couple orders of magnitude, knowing Edward.

"Well, if _you_ want to find an engine and a mechanic who could repair it, you're welcome to try. But my hands are tied. The bargain was that when the truck died I would replace it. That's what I'm obligated to do."

I pouted, and he kissed my jutting bottom lip. I couldn't help the trembling little butterflies or the soft hum of pleasure when he kissed me like that, even if I was still in mourning. My arms wrapped around his neck of their own accord. I was taller than him, sitting in the chair, so it was harder for him to pull back. I worked those few extra seconds for all they were worth. I wasn't the only one who was breathing quickly when he finally managed to stand up without making me fall out of the chair. "You'll have your car by this time tomorrow night," he promised.

"You already have one?" My voice rose in volume _and_ pitch.

"Of course," he said arrogantly. "I had to have something for you to drive in case the truck died before we got back from the honeymoon and I could give you the car you agreed to."

"Hold on a second. Am I hearing this right? _Two cars?_"

"One for before the wedding and another for after," he explained matter-of-factly.

I scowled at him furiously. He knew how I felt about gifts! The heaps of jewelry and mysterious college acceptances were embarrassing enough, but at least I'd agreed to them. He was way out of line with this. "How did 'a replacement' for the truck become _TWO CARS_?"

"Well, the one you'll get tomorrow is just on loan. Think of it as a rental car to tide you over until your real replacement."

"Rental car." Great. Not only did I have to drive an over-priced, eye-catching Cullen car, but it was a loaner so I had to be extra-careful with it. I'd have to be one of those snobs who straddled two parking spaces at the very back of the lot because obviously the general public was too klutzy to be trusted near it. "Just great."

I narrowed my eyes at the ridiculously-gorgeous, smirking vampire in my kitchen. "I could use the petty cash card. It can't cost _that_ much to repair the truck."

The smirk barely flickered. "I'm obligated to replace the truck, and that's what I'll do. But by all means, use the petty cash card and try to fix it up. You're marrying into an undead family. An undead truck will fit right in. Besides, it'll make Esme happy."

I glowered and Edward kissed me again – trying to sidetrack me, no doubt. "Isn't there anything I can do to soften the blow?"

"Bring the truck home for me? I don't want to leave its final homecoming to some stranger."

He didn't laugh, though he wanted to, I could tell. "I promise."

Abruptly, he scooped me up in his arms and brought me to the couch. Charlie would be home in at most fifteen minutes. Maybe that's why Edward would risk twining his body with mine the way he did then – because he knew we'd be interrupted soon. I didn't care. I'd soak up every second of this that I could. His lips hungrily roamed my neck and shoulders. One hand slid from my back to my ribs and all the way down my side. After about a minute, I couldn't remember why I'd been so irritated with him. I probably wouldn't have remembered my own name if he hadn't spoken it. His velvet voice, rough with passion, made me shudder. His cold breath gusted against my skin.

The buttons of his shirt were no problem. I had too much practice. He wouldn't let go of me long enough to pull his shirt off, though. Under the light linen, I stroked the marble-smooth skin of his back.

A car door slammed. With a disconcerting rush, I was at the kitchen table again, blinking at the sudden change. Edward sat across from me, his hands a blur as they did up the buttons on his shirt. The room started to spin. Dammit! Just another five minutes!

"Put your head down," he whispered, "and pretend to cry."

Yeah right, like I would _cry_ over the truck. Over being interrupted just now, yes; over the truck dying, no. Nothing like a healthy dose of Edward to put the world into perspective. So I just let my forehead rest against the table and tried to get enough breath to satisfy my pounding heart. Charlie paused when he saw us. "You okay, Bella? Did you hear something bad about Jacob?"

"No," I murmured. _Thanks for reminding me, though, Dad. This day didn't suck enough yet._ "The truck died."

"Oh."

"Emmett and I will tow it home later tonight," Edward said softly, as though we were just beginning this conversation. "And I'll make sure you don't hurt for a car."

"Maybe we could fix the truck…" Charlie began. He didn't want me beholden to Edward anymore than I did, but it wasn't like he could object that loudly anymore.

"The engine seized after she drove it two miles without oil."

"Oh," he lamely repeated.

To me, Edward said, "It's only a couple of weeks until the wedding anyway, and then everything I own will legally be yours, too. It's not a big deal."

Two cars was so not part of the bargain, and here he was flaunting all the rest, too. He was such a cheater, sneaking in extras without actually renegotiating. Glaring at him for the not-so-subtle reminder, I headed toward the stairs. "I need a few minutes. Fish fillets are on the menu for dinner tonight. Why don't you start them for me, Edward?"

A grimace flickered across his face at the punishment I'd just inflicted on him – he'd have to scour his skin to get the smell of fryer grease off – but his expression was smooth when Charlie glanced at him dubiously. "No problem, Bella. Take as long as you need."

Charlie grimaced at Edward's placating tone and ambled into the living room to watch the news.

I didn't come down until I could smell the fillets frying. I thought about coming down sooner – I really wanted to – but then I'd start thinking about _two_ cars and decide that some kind of penance had to be exacted.

Charlie was still watching TV when I finally joined my vampire in the kitchen. Edward greeted me with a single, tentative kiss and then hesitated, torn between leaving klutzy me with the hot oil and asking me to take over chopping the head of cabbage for coleslaw. He'd been using the biggest butchers' knife we have. "How about you set the table?" he suggested.

Annoyed at his lack of confidence, I pointed out, "I was cooking for seventeen years before you came along and didn't manage to do myself in or hack off any appendages."

"I doubt that your mother let you work the stove while you were in diapers," he said dryly, "no matter how bad her cooking is."

"I'll set it for three," I threatened. I think that a little, irresponsible part of me was hoping for some more make-up making out. Maybe that's why I was still crabby.

Edward sighed impatiently. "Fine. I made it. Eating it can't be that much worse."

"And you probably just jinxed me," I continued as I rattled around in the silverware drawer. "I would have been perfectly safe with the knife, but now I'll drop a plate and cut my toe."

"Put your shoes on." He was grinning at me over his shoulder.

I kept my voice low, even though Charlie had turned up the sports highlights on the evening news. "What? No offer to move at the speed of light to save me from myself?"

"An offer can be declined."

Childishly, I hurled a butter-knife at him, and his hand flicked up to neatly catch it.

"See," he said, stepping over to place the knife in his spot at the table. Amusement sparkled in his eyes, despite his solemn tone. "You'll be perfectly safe."

Still disgruntled, I finished setting the table and called Charlie to dinner. Edward completed his penance by eating a portion of everything and left after helping me wash up.

He'd be back later, and I'd make him apologize _properly_ then. The thought made me smile.

...

It was after midnight before Edward appeared in my bedroom. He was a bit grungier than usual – jeans, soiled t-shirt, tennis shoes. "The truck is on your curb," he said, and I suddenly understood the more casual attire. I hadn't heard a car; did he carry it here?

"Thank you." I was still irritated, though, and he saw that in my eyes.

"It's not my fault you didn't have the hoses and belts replaced every hundred-thousand miles."

"I can't believe you're going to argue with me about car maintenance."

"Well you seemed in the mood to argue, so I thought I'd be accommodating," he answered with an angelic smile. "I confess I'm surprised you're still upset. You're never this excited about cars while they're still functional."

I didn't tangle with the first part, pouncing instead on the second half. "Of course I'm upset! I lose my first car and you're already trying to foist another one on me. Another car I did _not_ agree to, by the way."

With his shockingly-beautiful crooked smile, he warned, "Don't make me dazzle you."

I crossed my arms, very much aware that the last time he'd overtly tried to dazzle me was when I'd turned him down in the meadow. "I'd like to see you try."

A smile played across his lips, and I wondered what on earth had possessed me to throw down that gauntlet. Oh yeah, the reckless part of me that was hungering for an encore of our stolen moment on the couch this evening – that was what had possessed me.

"You really shouldn't have said that." He leaned closer, and I could feel his cool breath roll over my skin, starting at the base of my neck and inching up to my ear. I shuddered as he whispered, "First I shall take your breath away. And when you're gasping and vulnerable, I'll kiss you senseless. And then you'll forgive me and fall asleep in my arms."

"You think it'll be that easy?" I grumbled, a little breathless already.

"Oh, I don't _think_…."

_Rich, obnoxious, pushy… _He rose up higher on his elbow and his gentle eyes were a warm, inviting amber. _…gorgeous, breath-taking, dazzling vampire._

Oh, who was I kidding? It would be _exactly_ that easy, and I wouldn't last long even if I tried to resist the dazzle. So why try? An impish voice in the back of my mind whispered, _because it will be that much better if he's actually putting_ effort_ into it._ That was good enough for me.

I narrowed my eyes, or at least, I tried. "Has anyone ever told you how cocky you are?"

"Never," he whispered with a smirk, leaning closer until I could taste his sweetly-scented breath on the back of my tongue. Even knowing he was about to kiss me, I couldn't tear my gaze away from his mesmerizing eyes. "Tell me, Bella. How am I cocky?"

"Um…" _Think, Bella, think!_ I floundered, lost in his enticing scent.

"Can't you come up with one example?" His face hovered over mine, filling my vision, and his eyes were liquid gold – at once pleading and hungry.

I felt myself helplessly melting into the bed, unable to even close that little distance and seal my mouth to his. I had to waste all my focus on the little detail of breathing.

"Because I can think of one," he continued, his lips lightly brushing against mine with each word.

I whimpered.

"I dared to desire the irresistible Bella Swan."

He kissed me then, his lips as hungry as his eyes. Ten seconds, and he had me to the breathless and vulnerable stage. He drew back, looking pleased with himself. As I tried to catch my breath, his words sank in, and I felt a sudden flash of anger. _Irresistible._ Please. He resisted me all the time and pretty darn successfully at that.

"Liar."

"You doubt I desire you?"

"Irresistible," I panted.

He drew my hand to his lips, kissing the cold scar there. "If I had been able to resist _you_, my willpower would never have been tested against your blood. Even the ambrosia of your scent is nothing compared to the draw of _you_ yourself, Bella."

Senseless already, I stared into his earnest eyes, unable to think of a response.

He kissed me again – up my neck, along my jaw, my lips, my throat, my shoulders. My pulse was pounding in my ears. When I started to feel faint, he finally took pity on me and leaned away, putting the afghan between us. I realized with a pang of disappointment that he still had his shirt on. We'd been well on our way to establishing a tradition.

"Do you forgive me?" he asked.

I didn't have the breath or the cardio fitness to hold a grudge any longer. Dang it!

I nodded, still unable to speak, and he gave me one more soft, affectionate kiss on the lips. "Thank you, love." He breathed into my face, his scent filling my mind. "Now sleep."

Cheater!


	26. Fifteen

I drove to Bella's house, thanking my stars yet again that I had Alice for a sister. She'd foreseen the death of Bella's truck – actually, it had managed to survive beyond her expectation thanks to Jacob's TLC and my insisting on driving Bella around so much – and so I was already prepared.

I'd realized a while ago that The Thing, despite its many flaws, was a good vehicle for Bella in one way – only a semi could beat it in a demolition derby. Unfortunately, there were a lot of semis out there. Even here in Forks, there were occasional accidents with logging trucks, and I'd seen enough through Carlisle's memories for the thought to bring on a panic attack. Surely there must be a sturdy vehicle out there that wasn't built while poodle skirts were in fashion and that didn't have a built-in speed limit of fifty and could actually make it to Port Angeles in less than two hours.

Surprisingly, Rosalie had jumped on board when I'd started talking with my siblings about finding a replacement for The Thing. She envied Bella, but she _loathed_ the old rust-bucket in the same way Alice despised polyester. It was an affront to respectably-painted, well-maintained, fine-tuned automobiles everywhere. She was the one who helped me find the "before car."

In fact, Rosalie's looks opened doors for me that no amount of money would have, as she fondly and frequently pointed out. She even went out to dinner with a Mercedes executive in order to seal the deal for our "real-world testing" of their latest luxury armored vehicle. Even then, she wasn't able to get her hands on the prototype until she'd made a bet with the man that her team could improve its performance, with skinny-dipping as the ante. Alice made sure we wore nothing but the best; tenacious Rosalie made sure we drove nothing but the best. The Guardian had arrived in Seattle last month.

Despite that, it was Alice to whom I was really indebted. None of her visions of me presenting the Guardian included an enthusiastic Bella, but she did see me getting my proverbial mileage out of the new car by using it to further soften up my future father-in-law. So we'd waited until after Charlie and Bella finished dinner tonight to give Bella her gift.

But first we'd done the promised real-world testing. I'd let Esme drive the Guardian down from Seattle, much to her delight. Carlisle and I had taken it when we went hunting together, and as a Mercedes aficionado, he thoroughly approved of this car for Bella. Alice and Jasper took it to Tacoma for kicks one night when I was "sleeping," leaving the obnoxious Beach Boys' "Fun, Fun, Fun" in the CD player. Rosalie took it all the way to Redding and back, just to put it through its paces, and ended up spending the next seventy-two hours under it until she had improved the torque, top speed, and – of all things – the fuel efficiency.

I forbade Emmett from touching it, seeing how tempted he was to test the tank-proofing against vampire strength. Instead, I promised he could wreck The Thing after Bella had said her final farewells.

Whistling cheerfully, I'd waxed and detailed the new car two days ago in anticipation of the truck's demise. My sisters went out for a celebratory bear after Alice had confirmed it wouldn't run again. Bella might be all but planning a funeral for The Thing, but we were more in the mood for a wake.

_Ding, dong, The Thing is dead…_

Alice parked the Volvo behind me, and I got out to lean against the Guardian. If I went inside, we knew Bella would refuse to come out. I raised my eyes heavenward. _Thank you for sending me Alice!_

She knocked once on the door and then poked her head in. "Hi Charlie! Hey Bella! Bad time?"

"Alice, sweetheart!" Charlie gushed. "Come on in! We were just finishing up. Do you want a bite?"

Bella sniggered, and Alice mentally rolled her eyes. "I already ate. We have half an hour before Ben's birthday party, so Edward and I brought over a little surprise for you, Bella. Come see!"

Tugging on her hand, Alice pulled a wary Bella to the door, but Bella stopped short on the porch, her mouth literally hanging open. Charlie craned around her to see; he was speechless, even mentally. For a moment, he was as silent as Bella. When I could make out his muffled thoughts again, they were a mix of chagrin and awe. There was no way he could afford something remotely like this for Bella. And until this moment, it hadn't really sunk in how much money she was marrying into. I got the distinct impression from his mental images of the kitchen-appliance section of Wal-mart that he'd been planning on buying us a blender.

Alice caught that, too. _On it!_ she promised me. From the looks of it, Charlie _needed_ Alice's expertise in finding a perfect gift. Later, though.

"As promised," I said, shrugging away from the car.

"Come on, Bella!" Alice enthused, all but bouncing up and down in excitement. "You too, Charlie." She took both their hands and dragged them down the stairs.

"Nuh-uh." Bella tried to brace herself, but she should have known better. Alice saw it coming and put a friendly arm around her waist to propel her forward. Charlie was too numb to put up any fight.

I held out the key to him.

Charlie just stared owlishly.

"Care to take it for a spin? Dad?"

_Don't push it,_ Alice warned.

But the word had the desired effect. His eyes narrowed slightly as he focused on me again. "This is Bella's new car?"

"It's my before car," she growled, crossing her arms with an endearing fury. Judging by her expression, it had been a good idea to forewarn her yesterday so she'd have a little time to cool off. "A loaner to get me through to the wedding."

"Bella deserves the best," I explained, my hand falling slightly in a practiced human gesture, "and it will take a little while for her new car to arrive. I pulled a few strings to get her the upcoming model-year, but the earliest they could ship it was September. This should be good enough to get her through until then." It was a lie – her "after car" would arrive before the wedding – but it was a plausible reason for her to have two cars. I again extended the key. "Would you like to make sure I'm taking good care of your daughter?"

Charlie hesitated, vacillating between his irritation with me and his awe of the car, but Alice's vision was right, as usual. With a grunt, he took the key and stalked around to the driver's side. I pulled Bella into the back seat with me, while Alice rode shotgun.

I carefully hid any smugness from my smile as Charlie caressed the leather steering wheel and put the car in reverse. We peeled out onto the street, and a grin quickly followed the shock on his face. Putting it in gear, Charlie let the Guardian leap up to the posted twenty-five miles per hour and then quickly calculated his chances of being caught by his fellow officers if he were to speed in town.

Why couldn't Bella react like this?

Remembering his impressionable, young audience, Charlie kept to a legal limit, but he got on the 101 and headed toward Port Angeles as soon as he could, again accelerating like a teenager to the speed limit. "It's a nice car," he grudgingly admitted.

"It comes with a high safety rating, too," I added.

Only I could hear the little, guttural snort Alice made. _Overprotective. You're even worse than Jasper._ For conversation, she said, "The gas mileage isn't the best, but I can't imagine it being any worse than the truck." _The Thing._

Then she tapped the iPod plugged into the stereo and Bella rolled her eyes as The Eagle's "Take It Easy" rang crystal-clear from the speakers behind us. "Is that supposed to be a hint?" she muttered.

Setting the cruise control, Charlie settled deeper into the leather seat and his muffled thoughts became quieter with contentment. Every now and then, memories of an open road and misadventures from his youth flashed through his mind.

"Thank you, Alice," I whispered.

She grinned in answer.

"Dad," Bella said, raising her voice as "Get Over It" came thumping through the speakers, "we're going to miss Ben's party."

He reluctantly turned us around.

"It's a nice car," he repeated as we pulled into the driveway ten minutes later.

"Thanks." I cuddled Bella closer, glad that at least Charlie enjoyed it, even if his music tastes left something to be desired. "Why don't you drive us to the party, Bella?"

Charlie blushed slightly to realize she hadn't had a chance to even sit behind the wheel yet. "Go ahead, sweetheart," he said, handing her the key with just a hint of nervous reluctance. He briefly imagined the vehicle as a Mercedes pretzel, to use Bella's expression. "You'll love this thing."

Switching seats with me, Alice gritted her teeth at his desecrating _this_ car with _that_ nickname.

Bella narrowed her eyes at me and flounced out of the back seat, grumbling, "Thanks, Dad." Charlie wistfully stood on the porch and watched as Bella made the Guardian purr to life. She accidentally peeled out of the driveway, too, but no grin followed her shock.

I sighed at her from the passenger seat as we lurched down the street.

There would be hell to pay tonight, but at least she'd be safe. And Alice foresaw a much less cantankerous Charlie in the future. It was well worth it, especially if she let me _make up_ with her later.

…

Bella was already in bed when I arrived, wrapped up securely in her blanket and turned toward the wall. That was a surprise; I'd expected some kind of confrontation. Silently, I crept into her bed, testing the waters.

She made no sign that she was aware of me, and I leaned closer with deliberate slowness to press my lips once to the soft arch of her neck.

"It's late. You need your sleep," she said almost gruffly.

Was she _joking_ with me? I couldn't imagine being forgiven that easily. "Yeah, I've had a lot of sleepless nights lately."

"Well, then, good night."

Still puzzled, I sat up on my elbow and leaned closer, trying to get a good look at her face. She hid under the blanket, but not before I could see the slight puffiness to her eyes.

"Are you _crying_?"

"NO. I'm angry, and I'm not ready to forgive you yet, so go to sleep."

"You mean go away?" The thought was…impossible.

She sighed in exasperation under the blanket. "No, I mean close your eyes and be quiet and let me hold a grudge for just _one_ night, okay? You can stay; just let me…be me. You win. Forever. I'm driving the fancy car that will make me the center of the entire town's attention, and you're spoiling me rotten. Just spare me the exulting eyes and dazzling smile. I _want_ to be angry."

I doubted being able to read her mind in this moment would make it any less incomprehensible. "So you…want me to stick around so you can give me the cold shoulder?"

"Consider it practice for being an old married couple."

Bella joking about old age? I just couldn't seem to get a handle on what she was thinking. Besides… "We'll never be an old married couple."

"It's your turn to enjoy a human experience, then. If this doesn't work for you, there's always sleeping on the couch, too."

Well, I'd been expecting a confrontation, but not one with her hiding under the blankets. There was a certain weird logic to her thoughts. Assuming this was a battle of the wills – which was never my intent – I had won a round, so it was only fair that I should give her this one. The thought made me smile; I could certainly be a gracious winner. Acting on my hunch, I said, "Um…how do you propose I go to sleep?"

She pulled the blankets back, her expression softening to petulant disgust. "You can eat food but you can't fake sleeping?"

"I've never had to sleep under such intense scrutiny before. Can you give me a few pointers, love?"

She rolled her eyes, the corner of her hard-set lips twitching once. "It's simple. Close your eyes, lie still, and don't say anything."

"_You_ talk in your sleep."

That gave her pause, and she weighed her answer carefully. "Fine. You may talk in your sleep, but only if it's to reveal your closest-held secrets. And only if I'm still awake at the time."

Smothering a smile, I asked, "Am I allowed to hold you while I sleep? If we're practicing at the old married couple thing, I definitely think cuddling should be allowed."

"Of course not," she protested hotly. "Your snoring would keep me awake for hours!"

"Vampires do not snore."

"But _all_ old men do!"

"Well, take your hearing aid out, and it won't be a problem."

Her jaw dropped, and then she started sniggering.

"What?"

"You sounded _exactly_ like a grumpy old man when you said that."

"I _am_ over a hundred years old."

Her eyes widened a little, as though this was somehow a revelation.

"What, Bella?"

She shook her head, clearing it. "Nothing. It's off to dreamland for you. I'm dying to hear what you'll say in your sleep tonight."

She obviously wouldn't be happy about any efforts of mine to pry that secret out of her tonight, so spooning up against her swathed form, I relaxed onto her pillow and let out a snore that would rival Charlie's.

Bella stifled a giggle and nudged me with her shoulder. "We're a quarrelling old couple. You're not supposed to make me laugh. You're supposed to be sleeping."

"Oh, right. Guess I'm getting senile in my old age." I couldn't resist ribbing her just a bit in this bizarre conversation. "Shouldn't I have sleep apnea or…" Erectile dysfunction? No. "…or something? I'm sure Carlisle could spare the necessary medical equipment for the full human experience – "

"Edward?"

"Yes?"

"_Go to sleep_."

Grinning, I relaxed into the unnatural stillness that was so natural for my kind, waiting patiently for her to fall asleep. My only motion was the rise and fall of my chest as I breathed in her scent. The cruel girl was sending me to bed hungry – not a single peck on the cheek even – but I saw now how thoroughly she thought I deserved it. Not that I regretted badgering her into driving the Guardian; her safety was more important than a little quarrel and a kiss-less night. I'd known I would offend her and maybe even hurt her feelings, but I'd also known she'd forgive me. I still knew she'd forgive me eventually. If it meant one less way for me to lose her, I'd happily bask in her warmth from a distance.

She slipped into slumber, her breath evening out. "Good night, love," I whispered.


	27. Fourteen

We pulled into my driveway, which was illuminated by the porch light Charlie had left on for me. I cut the engine on my new car and we both got out – me to go inside and Edward to get in his Volvo. He paused next to my car door and turned his beautiful, solemn eyes on me. "Am I forgiven?"

It was the first we'd spoken of my little tantrum last night. He'd been patient – on the exterior – all day, but I knew better. It had to be eating at him that I hadn't brought it up, hadn't been the first to crack. I hadn't said anything, though, because I wasn't quite sure what to say. "The jury's still out on that one," I truthfully answered.

Disappointed, he looked down, carefully keeping his composure. "I suppose I'll see you…tomorrow."

He wasn't going to stay? Even last night, when I was _much_ more ticked off, I hadn't sent him away. I smiled, but he was still looking down, so he missed it. "Okay."

He finally looked up when I leaned closer. His jaw was set, but he obliged with a carefully neutral kiss. It was still enough to make my heart react.

I leaned back to meet his gaze and whispered, "12:01, it is." He blinked in surprise and I smiled again. "Unless you'd prefer 12:02."

The kiss he gave me then was most definitely not neutral. It wasn't even careful. I was pretty sure it was a preview of my happy place, hungry and excited and close enough to abandon that _I_ certainly couldn't tell the difference. When he finally let me catch my breath, the amber fire in his eyes made my insides twist in anticipation. Fourteen nights now – two weeks.

"12:01," he softly, fervently promised.

...

Charlie was sitting in his recliner, his irritated expression giving away that he'd been spying on us through the living room window.

I was still flying from my Edward-high and even his crusty glare couldn't bring me down. "Hey, Dad."

"Something in the kitchen for you," he grumbled.

Curious, I continued down the hall. An elegant crystal vase sat on the kitchen table overflowing with clusters of small white roses and tied with a silver ribbon – our wedding colors, silver and white. The whole room was full of the scent; they were tea roses. He must have spent a small fortune on them, which admittedly was just pocket change for him. When I opened the card lying on the table beside the vase, it said simply, "You are my life."

I carried them up the stairs, trying for the life of me to figure out the boy. _That boy._ The century-old boy who apparently thought that dropping a chunk of change on flowers would win him forgiveness for dropping a significantly larger chunk of change on a car. He knew better. I _knew_ he did. So what on earth was he thinking?

In my room, I went to place the flowers beside my clock on the nightstand and then decided I wasn't feeling that forgiving yet. I moved them to the computer desk instead, but that didn't feel right, either. Oh well, I told myself. I'd figure out my conflicting emotions as I showered and got ready for bed.

I considered that as I found a fresh towel and grabbed my toiletries. First there was the shock of last night. He'd actually done it. Edward had actually given me enough space to be angry and work my way through forgiving him all on my own. He'd even given me the last word and didn't say anything else before I fell asleep. I'd begun to think he wasn't capable of that – especially giving up getting in the last word.

He _must_ love me.

But I was still upset about the new car. Under the soothing stream of the hot shower, I realized upset was probably an overstatement; I was annoyed more than anything. He'd insisted we drive it over to his place this morning, leaving the Volvo at Charlie's house. It was even worse than driving the stupid thing to Ben's party last night. One guy in front of the Thriftway actually dropped his can of soda when we drove past. And it wasn't just this car. I knew I was going to have to endure unwanted automobile attention _forever_. When I was 10,000 years old, I'd have the hottest rocket-ship in the solar system. Other spaceships would crash into comets when I zoomed past.

This was one aspect of an eternity with Edward that I hadn't considered before now. Was I really willing to forgive him yet? Because the consequences were far-reaching. If I gave in now, I'd always have to drive the best of whatever people were driving or flying or whatever. He was almost a hundred and ten, for crying out loud – young for a vampire but old enough to be set in his ways.

Of course I wanted _him_ for eternity, but I'd have the aggravating things for eternity, too. This whole fiasco had brought that issue into sharp focus.

I turned off the shower and reached for my towel. It _was_ a viable option to repair the truck, but it would be a violation of our sticky compromise. Not that he wasn't technically violating it, but I wasn't going to argue with him about that point anymore. The two cars was just Edward being Edward. Was I willing to concede and drive eye-catching cars forever, or was I going to be stubborn and risk the wedding and my human happy place in a battle of wills?

I considered that as I brushed my teeth. Jasper had recently introduced me to the philosophical concept of a false dilemma, the logical fallacy that you only have two choices. I'd always been a firm believer that most problems were false dilemmas; now I just had the word to describe what I meant. Look at Jacob and Edward. Yes, I had to choose Edward when it came to romantic love, but that didn't mean I had to stop loving them both as friends. I'd seen Charlie and Renée do that – still care about the other's happiness even though they'd fallen out of love. So loving one and ignoring the other was a false dilemma.

Was this a false dilemma? Could I figure out a way to make Edward keep his side of the bargain and still get…what? Get out of accepting the car? Not likely. Get out of being the center of attention? Possibly. I could insist that Edward take me with him in the Volvo any time I needed to go out – grocery shopping, to the bookstore, wherever. If I was careful, I might even be able to get to the wedding without having to refill the tank. No need for anyone to see me ever driving that car again. And that would also help me with the "after car," which would no doubt be every bit as ostentatious as this one, if not more so; I'd drive the Volvo whenever I could.

Sweeping my hair up into a towel, I opened the bathroom door and went into my bedroom. The green numbers on my clock read 11:43. The mouthwatering smell of the roses permeated the room. Okay, so they were kind of nice to have around, but that didn't necessarily mean he was off the hook, for the flowers or the cars. I compromised with myself and moved the vase to my dresser; that way they weren't right by my bed, but they weren't banished to the impersonal computer desk either. Maybe Edward would even notice the subtle message.

I began brushing my hair, glancing frequently at the clock.

11:44

11:45

11:46

He'd never had a deadline before – the anticipation wound me up tighter than usual.

11:47

Were the numbers _slowing down_? What if my clock was fast? I dove for my for-emergencies cell phone to check the time.

11:48

I paced my room a couple of times, knowing that there was no way I could read for 12 – no 11 – minutes and enjoy it. If Charlie was still awake, he would hear the floorboards creaking under my feet, though, so I retreated to my bed.

What would I do when he appeared in another – I checked the clock, 11:50 still – 11 minutes? Was I ready to forgive him yet? If he would agree to my terms about cars, yes. It was a compromise I was pretty sure would work for both of us. Then I looked at the flowers on my dresser again and decided I was only half ready to forgive him. I still wasn't sure about the roses. It was a grandiose gesture, but it didn't _really_ mean anything. It was worse than an attention-getting, extravagant gift – it was an attention-getting, extravagant bribe. Maybe. You'd _think_ he would be smarter than that. I certainly hoped he understood me well enough to know better.

11:54

ARGH! I was going to start pulling my hair out! At 11:56, Charlie started snoring, and I risked a little distraction for myself. I got up and began cleaning my room – hanging up a shirt, putting my shoes in the bottom of the closet, tossing my socks from today into the hamper.

11:57

Antsy, I started clearing off horizontal surfaces, putting my CD's in a neat stack with the titles facing out, throwing away the last few scraps of last year's homework that were cluttering my desk, dropping a few stray pens into the cup where they belonged. I even found 84¢ in spare change, which I squirreled away in my money sock under my bed.

11:59

Oh, come on, already! I threw open the window and looked out, but I couldn't see any sign of Edward. Served me right. I was the one who told him to come at 12:01.

Having nothing else to do, I made my bed and then settled into the rocking chair to wait.

Midnight, on the dot.

I closed my eyes, trying to decide if any feeling of annoyance remained. It was hard to tell. The anticipation was drowning out everything else.

"I see you found the flowers."

My eyes flew open to see him sitting on the edge of my bed, and the smirk on his face decided it for me. Yep, I was still annoyed. At least a little bit. "Yeah. And I'm the brink of sending you down to sleep on the couch because of them."

His face was completely calm – he wasn't buying my bluff. That was fine, as long as he didn't call it.

I continued, "You and I need to come to an understanding on a few things. First, just because I have a replacement for the truck doesn't mean we're changing anything about my driving habits. So you're still driving whenever we're together. In the Volvo, I might add."

He nodded in docile agreement, surprising me, and I wondered if Alice had tipped him off about this.

"And second, what _is_ it with the roses, anyway? I've been trying to figure them out for the last hour and I can't wrap my mind around them."

He shrugged. "I thought it should be obvious. Flowers after an argument generally indicate an apology."

"Yes, but…are you actually _apologizing_? As in, changing your bullheaded ways?"

He frowned slightly. "Not exactly, no. Not in that sense of the word."

I huffed. "I didn't think so."

Leaning forward, Edward rested his elbows on his knees. "Consider the flowers a peace offering, then. It's not often you hold a grudge that long. You agreed to this arrangement with the truck's replacement last night, but I worried that you felt I was…"

"Overbearing?"

He flashed that unfair, beautiful crooked smile. "Unfeeling was the word I was looking for. I'm sorry your feelings were hurt, and I apologize for that in every sense of the word."

His earnest gaze was making it hard to breathe. This was _exactly_ why I hid under the blankets last night.

He straightened again. "And before you ask, I didn't spend money on the flowers. You said homemade and hand-me-down gifts were acceptable, and I'm staying within those boundaries. The car was an exception to that rule and had to be independently negotiated."

"Car_s_."

He ignored that. "The roses were home-grown, which I assume counts, and the vase was a hand-me-down from Esme."

I cocked an eyebrow at him. "A hand-me-down? And I suppose the ribbon was a hand-me-down from Alice?"

"Now that you mention it, yes.

"So you were bumming presents for me off your family?"

"Would you rather I had FTD deliver something?" he smoothly retorted.

"No," I hastily answered. "I just think I'd rather hear your apology in person."

His expression softened a little at my back-pedaling. "Words aren't much of a peace offering. Talk, as they say, is cheap."

The flowers weren't an attempt to buy me off; they were Edward's way of saying he loved me even though we weren't agreeing. The lingering annoyance faded as I finally understood. I grinned at him and waggled my eyebrows. "I don't know; lip-service is underrated."

He barked out one soft laugh and his eyes smoldered in the lavender glow of my night-light. "You'd like my apology from my own lips, then?"

"Please?" I whispered.

He inched closer until he was kneeling in front of the rocking chair, his hands on the armrests. Just his scent made my breath quicken. "Forgiven?"

I opened the top button on his shirt, and his breath caught when my fingertips brushed against the cool skin of his chest. "I couldn't tell you. I haven't heard the apology yet."

His eyes smoldered up at me through his long lashes. "You won't _hear_ much of it."

My fingers steadily continued down his shirt, but my unruly heartbeat was all over the place. "Okay, felt your apology, then."

He leaned forward into my personal space to allow me to reach the last button, and I sat back until I was ram-rod straight against the back of the rocking chair. His lips brushed up the line of my jaw, back and forth. My eyes rolled back, and my hands slid over the smooth planes of his chest. I was so tense with anticipation I was almost trembling. I was quite happily trapped in the rocking chair with _Edward_ hovering over me.

"None of that now," he said softly against my chin and caught one of my hands. "This is me apologizing to you." He straightened enough to meet my gaze, raising an amused eyebrow. "Unless you have something you wish to apologize for."

My hands itched to be on his skin, and I reached for him again. "How about I apologize for being angry?" He hummed a low sigh of pleasure at my touch and brushed his lips over the rim of my ear. I kissed his marble-smooth throat. "Or maybe for having such an insanely overprotective father who doesn't sleep anywhere near long enough."

He chuckled, and I could feel the vibration of it against my lips. "I could even apologize for the hole in the ozone layer, if you'd like."

"That would take a lot of apologizing," he murmured. A cold, moist touch flicked against my earlobe – his tongue?

I shivered once and then melted. "I'm up for it."

He lifted me straight out of the chair, holding me against him, and laid us both down in my bed. A familiar but long-absent electricity hummed between us, and I was overwhelmingly aware of his touch. His lips slowly, sinuously slid down my neck, over my collarbone, and across the top of my shoulder to the strap of my tank top. "I just might hold you to that."


	28. Twelve

Author's Notes: You might want to read my latest story "Hypocrite" first, since it's kind of a companion fic for this chapter. Enjoy! :)

* * *

I parked the Volvo in the garage and closed my eyes, resting my head against the back of the driver's seat. I had about an hour to kill before Charlie would fall asleep and I could return to Bella. I intended to put that hour to the best possible use – remembering. In eighty years as a vampire, I'd never appreciated perfect vampire recall more than I had this summer.

Warm echoes recreated the soft touch of her fingertips on my chest. I could taste her skin again. I could hear – feel – her pulse against me. Her breath on my neck, the sweet scent of it curling around us.

The passenger door yanked open and I slowly opened my eyes.

"Finally. I've been trying to catch your attention for the last five minutes." It was Rosalie. Hearing the tenor of her thoughts, I grimaced, but she ignored that. She had an opinion she felt the need to share, and there would be no gainsaying her. "I want to hunt. Come on."

Knowing I'd much rather discuss this away from the prying ears of my family, I angrily slid out of my seat and closed the door more firmly than was strictly necessary.

"Fine," I grumbled. "Let's get this over with."

We shot into the forest, running smoothly toward the national park for a quick hunt. Rosalie was aware of the irritation rolling off of me, but fortunately she didn't sense my embarrassment. I would just let her get this off her chest and go straight over to Bella's.

"Emmett said you're polling the family's opinion on sex."

Involuntarily, my jaw clenched. I was going to kill him for blabbing to her. "No, I'm not."

"You asked him and Jasper."

I knew it'd be futile, but I tried to shut her down. "If I'd wanted to discuss this with you, I would have brought it up myself."

"Carlisle, too," she added, ignoring me. "Did it never occur to you to get a woman's perspective?" _Self-centered male._

She was insulted. Rosalie was _insulted_ that I hadn't asked for her take on the birds and the bees. "I did speak with Esme."

"Alice, too?" she guessed.

"No, actually," I answered archly. I'd already asked her for more than I had a right to.

Rosalie pursed her lips, slightly mollified. _At least I'm not the only one whose opinion he didn't ask_. "I'm offended, Edward."

What else was new? "I asked Esme for a woman's perspective, not a female's," I improvised. "Bella will be human. Your human experience would hardly be instructive."

She thought of Emmett, of the damage he did to the surrounding structure during their honeymoon. The sheer violence of the memory made my stomach twist. "You might be surprised," she murmured, her words tinged with worry.

"I really did not need that mental image," I groaned. For more reasons than one. I didn't want to contemplate that – metal snapping, wood crunching, linens ripping while I made love to Bella. It wouldn't be making love; it would be utter loss of control. The very worst of what I feared.

"You need to think about these things, Edward."

Through my teeth, I said, "I have." It had tortured me for weeks now.

She stopped on the trail, defiantly crossing her arms. "Then you need to re-think it."

The image flashed through her mind of us arguing in the snow, and I remembered the night, more than half a century ago, when I had tried to talk _her_ out of doing something dangerous and just plain wrong. The night I chose to step aside while she killed Royce and the others. Her eyes searched mine. "Don't do this, Edward."

"This decision is nothing like yours was."

"Then explain to me how it isn't. You're risking all our happiness in a selfish, irresponsible quest to prove something to yourself. It even involves your fiancée."

"It's different because, unlike you, I'm not out to kill the person wearing my ring!"

"You aren't?" It was more of a challenge than a question.

That didn't deserve an answer. Instead, I pointed out, "Our Denali cousins manage it."

"After hundreds of years. And not with their singers. And not in their first try, either."

"You don't know that."

She shrugged. "It's stupid and selfish and wrong, Edward."

"I can't…there's no other way for me, Rosalie. I can't deny her."

She dropped her gaze, remembering her panic when Alice told her I was headed to Volterra. Remembering Emmett's willingness to sprint into our family's slaughter for me. "You have to. If you love her, you have to." _If you love us._

I'd realized that, too. But I'd also come to the more important realization that I didn't know what was best for Bella. As twisted as it sounded, it would be worse to run rough-shod over her than to take this risk. I finally understood that now. "I love her enough to let her choose for herself, even if it is the wrong choice."

She heard the double-meaning in my words, heard me pleading with her to understand. I had let her do the same – make the wrong choice – because I loved her as a sister. Could I do anything less for the woman I loved more than anyone or anything? "Maybe I'll regret this decision as little as you regret yours."

She gave me a sad little smile at that. "I worry about you, Ed."

I returned her smile half-heartedly. "Rose."

"Edward," she corrected, using my full name. "You really think this is more important than our entire family?"

"Is Emmett more important to you than our entire family?"

I had her with that one, and she knew it. She frowned thoughtfully and then sighed. "Be careful."

There was no right answer to that. I couldn't say 'I will be' when a human honeymoon was the epitome of recklessness, and I desperately needed to be careful every second I was with Bella. "Are we going to hunt or not?"

She nodded. "Let's go."

Thanks to Rosalie's unsolicited opinion, I was in a pretty morose mood by the time I arrived at Bella's house. Bella had her eyes closed, but her heart-rate and breathing told me she wasn't asleep. I knelt beside her bed and took her hand in mine, kissing her ring. _I will not hurt her._

"You're late."

I turned her hand, kissing her palm. "And you're sleepy."

She sat up on her elbow, bringing her face inches from mine. "Not anymore. There's a gorgeous vampire in my room. It's the witching hour. Anything could happen."

I cracked a smile at that and softly kissed her. "You wish," I murmured against her lips.

"Thought you couldn't read my mind."

"I can't." But I was getting awfully good at reading her body. I leaned away, sitting back on my heels. "But any _normal_ person would hear 'witching hour' and 'anything could happen' and be worried. Your instincts are all backwards."

She narrowed her eyes at me.

"What?"

"You've got 'mope' written all over you. How many times have we been over this?"

Not anywhere near often enough if she still wanted to go through with the honeymoon. Alice's visions were bad enough; the memories Rosalie had dredged up for me this evening had left my heart ice cold.

Bella reached out to brush her fingertips over my cheek. "We're going to be okay, Edward." She leaned forward, her soft kiss warming me despite myself. "And we might even be a bit better than just okay."

I inhaled; her scent was distilled temptation. Could I ever resist when she appealed to my selfish inclinations? Did I want to even try?

She drew back enough to meet my gaze. "Don't you think?"

Ridiculously, there was doubt in her melted-chocolate eyes. As if her touch could ever be anything other than pure pleasure. My touch was another matter entirely. "If I can keep from killing you – "

She shoved my shoulder, and I rocked away to keep her from hurting herself. "I _knew_ it. You're moping."

"And you're in denial."

"No, I'm being optimistic."

"Then let me be the natural pessimist I am. Just let me be me," I said, quoting her. "Just for tonight."

She briefly scowled, clearly disgruntled, before reaching out to me. Her eyes softened again. "But you'll stay?"

I took her outstretched hand. "For as long as you want me."

"Forever," she whispered, pulling me up onto the bed with her. I lay down on top of the blanket, and she curled closer, spooning up against me.

With Bella's warmth comforting me, I gave myself over to the fear Rosalie had planted in my heart. What if I did kill Bella? I already knew how it felt to lose her, and despite the fact that she was _right here_, remembering made my soul twist and writhe in pain. Yes, I had a soul; it was an epiphany I had while standing on the edge of the plaza waiting for full sun so I could die. In that moment, I realized I lost my soul when Bella died, not when Carlisle changed me. When she saved me from the Volturi, she also saved me from the depths of hell. If I killed her while indulging the most carnal, animal desires…the phrase doubly-damned took on new meanings.

But I wasn't going to turn back. It was like the Friday before I first took her to the meadow. There was no avoiding this test – it felt fated. Alice was so confident Bella would be unharmed that she didn't show the slightest concern about that last three percent. I'd tried to follow suit and be hopeful. Trust Rosalie to destroy that hope.

I stroked Bella's arm, and she turned to nuzzle closer. I wrapped my arms around her, still brooding in her warmth. What if the hours we could spend together like this were numbered? The thought of us ever coming to an end was unbearable, and yet I had to acknowledge that it was exactly what I was risking by agreeing to make love to her while human. The grief ripped through me, even as I breathed in her scent, soaked up her warmth, listened to her trembling heart.

"Do you remember our first kiss?" Bella asked softly.

Obviously, it was rhetorical – I remembered everything about every moment we'd been together. I answered anyway. "Of course."

She squirmed to where she could reach my lips and kissed me once, gentle and sweet. Then she rested her forehead against mine, waiting. After a moment, I finally realized the point that she was trying to make. What had been excruciatingly difficult at first had become almost…reflexive.

I could feel the heat of her breath on my cheek when she whispered, "Remember the day we met?"

My heart turned ice cold again, remembering how close I'd come to killing her. How narrow her escape had been. How the fate that Alice had foreseen for Bella was coming closer to reality with each passing hour.

"And then, in the ballet studio…"

"Bella."

"You said it was impossible, but you stopped."

"Please. Don't try to cheer me up."

"I'm just saying…you're an amazing person. You keep accomplishing the impossible."

I smiled despite myself. Wryly. "Yes. You're still alive."

"So…"

"So what?"

"So since I'm here and currently alive, I think you deserve a reward for that fact."

Her eyes were sparkling mischievously, and I suddenly understood why she dove under the covers the night she tried holding a grudge against me. There was no denying the girl; she dazzled.

Still, I tried to resist. "You're right. I deserve a mountain lion."

She laughed once before brushing her lips against my jaw. I was melting slowly in the warmth of her love. "I was thinking of something more immediate."

"A ride in your new car?" Any mention of her cars was bound to be a mood-killer.

Bella didn't disappoint, pursing her lips in annoyance. "You are so _stubborn_! Besides, Charlie would wake up for sure if I tried to sneak out like that, knowing my luck. You're just going to have to settle for a homemade reward."

I arched an eyebrow at her. "Homemade?"

She trailed burning kisses over my skin – up my jaw and down my cheek to my mouth. I reflexively responded to her. "Yep," she said. "Made right here."

"Do _I_ need to hide under the covers?" I threatened, though my arms were still holding her close.

Through her kisses, she murmured, "I took your flowers."

"Hmm. Good point." I brushed my hand over her hair, my palm coming to rest lightly against her cheek. One way or another, we were going through with this. I was doing everything I could to make it easier, and I realized, with her living skin on mine, that moping tonight was _wasting time_. The only other time I'd felt this desperate combination of grief and longing was when I kissed her after her birthday party, but this time it was longing I was embracing.

This was her peace offering, her way of being a gracious winner. I couldn't refuse her. But I owed it to her to be honest with her. Around her lips, I murmured, "I'm afraid to lose you."

"You're not going – "

I cut her off with a kiss. "Let me be me."

She pulled back, nodding a little, to cuddle up against me again.

I kissed her forehead. "I'm afraid to lose you, but I'm also afraid to lose this…opportunity."

She lay perfectly still, listening.

"Because to be perfectly honest…" Why were these words so hard to say? Because they were the selfish ones that damned me. "I want you and I don't want to have to wait for your newborn thirst to ebb."

I dared to look down, and her eyes were wide in surprise. Was it such a shock that I might want her, right here right now and fully human? I'd confessed as much when I tried to seduce her in the meadow. "If you change your mind, though," I hurriedly added, "if you ever feel at any point that it's too much of a risk while human and that you'd rather wait until you're more durable, I would happily – "

Bella threw her arms around my neck and kissed me, her lips hungrily seeking mine again and again. I rolled onto my back, pulling her body against mine. Her fingers were sure on my shirt as she moved from button to button. And she thought _she_ might spontaneously combust!

I tilted her chin up, letting her breathe and giving myself a break from the temptation of my mouth on hers. I traced her jugular with my lips, my tongue flicking once over her pulse-point. She shuddered and twisted her head away from my hand, shifting to nestle against my side. Her lips trailed kisses down my neck and her burning hand slid under the cloth of my shirt, making new memories for me to savor another night.


	29. Eleven

I shoved the front door open with a bang and kicked off my tennis shoes, losing my balance and thudding against the wall in the entryway.

"Bella?" Charlie was half-way out of the recliner.

"Hi, Dad!" The greeting was supposed to be cheerful, but I was breathing too heavily. It gave away my panic. Giving up on trying to act nonchalant, I grabbed a box of tissues and hastily wiped down my shoes.

My dad stood awkwardly in the middle of the living room, looking at me like I'd lost my mind. "Do you, er, need a hand with anything?"

"Nope. Just give me a minute and I'll get the chicken on the grill."

Hoping against hope that this would work, I ran up the stairs with my shoes in hand, stumbling on the fourth step. I was ridiculously shaky as I dialed the Clearwater's phone number on the for-emergencies cell.

"Hello?"

I was lucky tonight (the right kind of luck, not my usual kind); maybe that boded well.

"Hi, Seth."

He didn't sound surprised. "Hi. Calling about Jacob?"

I frantically glanced around my bedroom. "Yeah. I…um…just had a minute…"

"You okay, Bella?"

I never could lie. Maybe immortality would help that. I sincerely hoped so. "No, actually. I need your help. I'm trying to outwit Alice."

"Okay…" he said hesitantly. "What do you need me to do?"

"Can you come up to Forks? Right now?"

"Uh…"

Funny how much that one little non-word could say. Seth was really beginning to question my sanity.

"I can come pick you up," I offered, beginning to feel desperate. "In the fancy sports car Edward got for me."

"Sure, I guess."

I dove for the dresser and opened the shirt drawer. Shoving my clothes aside, I stuffed my shoes in and covered them up again. With a muffled thud, I shoved the drawer closed.

"Thanks, Seth. Don't worry about it. I'm good now."

"You sure?" Because he sure wasn't.

"Positive. Alice is going fashionista on me and Edward says she's going to steal my tennis shoes to force me to branch out into other footwear. He's trying to reason with her right now, but I needed to take evasive action."

Seth burst out with laughter. "Glad I could help, then."

"You're great, you know that?"

"Yep," he chortled.

I was starting to calm down, now that I was about ninety-five percent sure that my favorite, worn-out tennis shoes were safe. I'd bought them in Arizona, all the way back before myth and legend became boyfriend and best friend. Alice took umbrage with me having sentimental attachment to clothing. In her mind, it would be like being attached to bottle-caps. Why keep trash?

Crazy little vampire.

"Since I have you on the line, have you heard from Jacob?"

I was just trying to make small-talk so Seth wouldn't feel like I was using him, and that was the first thing that popped into my head. Belatedly, I realized I was using him for information, too. I sighed at myself. But that was the question that was _always_ in the back of my mind now.

Fortunately, he didn't seem to mind. "Not really. He's still a wolf and still sticking to dense forest. Last time I was on patrol he was in pretty rough terrain, probably really high up in the mountains. That was all I could get from him."

"Thanks, Seth."

"Sure. Hey, um, I don't want to blow you off, but the guys were going cliff-diving…."

I laughed. "Go. And thanks a million, Seth."

"Sure thing. Bye, Bella."

I hung up and went back downstairs to make dinner.

...

When Edward dropped me off at home later that night, he carried me from his car to my doorstep. I'd gone barefoot to his house, despite his assurances that Alice had promised not to do anything drastic. This had amused Edward to no end, but I didn't want my favorite shoes in her unsentimental clutches.

And I have to admit I was feeling pretty smug for one-upping her.

"That you, Bella?" Charlie called from the bathroom. He was brushing his teeth.

I climbed the stairs. "Yep."

He rinsed his mouth and wiped his face with a towel, then stepped into the hall to give me a hug.

"Goodnight, Bells."

I suddenly realized it was Friday night. "Are you going fishing tomorrow?" He was turning in kind of late for that.

"No," he muttered and gave me a sidelong look that clearly said he wasn't leaving his little girl unattended for that long.

I sighed, less at his distrust and more at the fact that there was no need for it. It was my choice, but that didn't mean I still didn't wish…. "Good night, Dad."

I quickly dressed for bed and then opened the window. Edward didn't immediately breeze in, so I went to check on my shoes. They were right where I had left them, except… I let out a low growl, and Edward's cool hands rested lightly on the tops of my shoulders. "Bella?"

I held up my sneakers and irrationally glowered at him since he was the nearest expensively-dressed immortal available. Alice had stolen my shoelaces. I dropped the shoes with a defeated groan and threw myself face-down on the bed. "I'm doomed to an eternity of high-end, designer _everything_, aren't I?"

Edward heard my muffled griping. "Except nightlights," he amiably pointed out.

"You're not helping."

"Pick up another pair of laces tomorrow morning," he suggested. I could hear his suppressed laughter. "Esme will be thrilled if you use the petty cash card."

And he'd be thrilled to see me driving the before-car. With another groan, I pulled the pillow over my head to drown him out.

His chill hands rested on my shoulders. At first they idly caressed the line of my neck, the top of my shoulders. Then gingerly Edward began to knead the tense muscles between my shoulder blades.

I froze in surprise. He'd never really given me a backrub before. What a shame – he was very good. With a contented sigh, I relaxed. Kind of. It was hard to completely relax under his touch, partly because his fingers were still cool despite the hand-warmers but mostly because I was in bed and _Edward_ was the one running his thumbs up either side of my spine. I arched my back slightly.

Without the distractions of his beautiful face or his delicious kisses, I was especially aware of his hands on my body. I'd never noticed how perfectly they fit on me. His thumbs continued up my back while the tips of his long fingers trailed along my ribs. I couldn't feel his palm, just the light brush of cool air, as his hand passed from my tank-top to the skin of my upper back.

I pulled the pillow off my head. My sigh sounded closer to a moan. "That's nice."

"Not…too much pressure?" he asked anxiously.

"Actually, you can use a little more. Especially right down…a couple of inches…there."

"I can feel the knot," he murmured. "That doesn't hurt?" He almost sounded surprised.

"Not at all. I'll tell you if it does."

The knot quickly unwound under his touch. Edward could dazzle even my muscles.

"Don't tell me," I said, the volume of my words rolling a little with the rest of my ribcage. "You have a degree in chiropractics with double minors in massage therapy and acupressure."

He chuckled. "I'm afraid not. It was just part of the training with my last medical degree. I took a few classes on alternative and complementary medicine."

"Too bad. You have the hands for it." I silently contemplated that, wondering what else Edward's sensitive hands might be doing a couple of weeks from now.

So softly I wasn't sure he was speaking to me, he said, "I never would have dared then…to touch a mortal like this…."

"Are you moping?" I mumbled.

He chuckled again. "I only meant you've changed me, Bella, made me so much more human."

His fingers were fanning out from the middle of my back to the sides. I was acutely aware when his fingertips came within a hair's breadth of the curve of my breast.

"Hmm…I wonder…" I twisted my torso to look at him; he was kneeling on the bed, straddling me. A warm thrill rippled down my spine.

He sat back on his heels, his expression innocent as though he were oblivious to my blush and to what he'd just done to my heart. "Yes?"

My mind, impatient with my too-slow body, was already off in my happy place. "Huh?"

A smirk pulled at the corner of his lips. "What do you wonder, Bella?"

"Um..." What _did_ I wonder? Oh, that's right! "I wonder if you're human enough that you'd enjoy a backrub, too."

He stretched out beside me, lying on his side and propping his head up on one hand. His crooked smile made my heart skip erratically. "You're incorrigible."

I reached for the buttons on his shirt – funny how he was always wearing button-down shirts these days – and his breath quickened.

"You don't want a backrub, then?"

"I didn't say that."

Apparently I wasn't quick enough because he had his shirt open and off in one barely-discernible movement.

The shock never ceased to delight me. Lavender in the dim glow, his skin was coolly beautiful. I reached out, marveling at the fluid way his muscles moved under my hand – smooth and hard as stone. He stretched out, lying on his belly, and my fingers trailed from his shoulders to his waist.

He sighed.

It suddenly occurred to me that the easiest way to give him a backrub was from the same position he'd been in. On top. Part of me went into a panic. The other part went to my happy place. He turned his head, his eyes glimmering with amused curiosity in the dim light. My heart was giving me away again.

Coward that I was, I sat up beside him, propping myself up with one hand and letting the other explore him. It was like giving a massage to an ice-block, and I quickly gave up trying to actually knead muscles or anything like that. Shifting to kneel and sit on my heels, I mimicked the way his hands had touched me earlier, tracing his spine, fanning my fingers over his back.

He closed his eyes, his breath catching a little.

Hm. I liked that.

His arms slid up my bed and he clasped one wrist with the other hand. For some odd reason, it made me think he was locking himself there. Not that I could tell anything from his always-tense, rock-hard muscles.

Rising up on my knees, I let my hands lightly slide down the sides of his ribs. At his waistband, I dragged my fingertips to the middle of his back and pressed my thumbs along his spine again. I continued all the way up his neck to the base of his skull. He tucked his chin, responding to the motion of my hands.

A shudder.

Definitely liking this.

My hands slid down his wintry neck and over the line of his shoulders. I gave the hard muscles at the top of his arms a little squeeze, and he let out one short, little sigh. Maybe he could feel my merely-human strength more than I thought. I tried again on his biceps. To me, it felt like squeezing stone, but he again hummed with pleasure.

It occurred to me that he wasn't the only one who could do some rehearsing.

I trailed my fingertips back up his arms to his shoulders and then hesitated, my hand hovering over his cold skin. What would I do, if I were in my happy place right now?

_I'd be horizontal, for starters_, a snarky part of me grumbled.

My still-as-stone Edward _squirmed_, his shoulders moving from side to side. Odd. I hadn't even touched him. Then I remembered how I could feel the cool brush of air from his hovering hands. Was it like that with my body heat? I experimented, flirting with his marble skin without ever connecting as my hand slowly moved down his back. I'd only gotten about half-way when he shuddered again.

I could affect him like that without even _touching_ him. This was just…wow! I tried again, my hand hovering over his skin as I trailed warmth from the top of his shoulder to the side of his ribs and then down to his waist. Curious, I moved my hand over the side of his hips, and he squirmed away again.

_He could feel me through his clothes!_ This was just too much…something. Fun? Maybe. Definitely fascinating. Edward was actually _that_ aware of me physically. I continued all the way down the side of his leg and then drifted up the back of his thigh.

"Bella." His velvet voice was almost strained as I reached his…backside, and I didn't have to be a genius to figure out why.

I pulled my hands away. "Oops."

He chuckled, rolling to his side and flipping the quilt back for me. "Time for the human to get some sleep."

"Too hot for you?" I teased as I slipped under the covers.

"Something like that," he murmured, his lips brushing over my ear.

I turned my head to catch his lips with mine. "You could cool me off…" I invited through my kisses, pressing his marble hand to my face.

"Somehow…I doubt that would have the desired effect."

I sighed. "You're probably right."

"Of course I am," he answered archly.

I giggled before it occurred to me that he might not be teasing. His answering smile told me it had been a joke and I laughed again with relief. After last night, I was worried Edward would go into another moping slump, but apparently his black mood had passed. Nuzzling closer, I said, "Kiss me to sleep."

His eyes warmed again – not quite smoldering, but loving enough to make me go all gooey. "Yes, ma'am."


	30. Eight

Warmth ran in rivulets of pleasure down my face, pooling above my collarbone where Bella's lips and tongue were playing, tormenting me. My back was crisscrossed with invisible streams of heat where her fingers had meandered. Her hands were inching down my ribs now, slow and hesitant as a drop of water hovering over some great height – swelling, resisting until _drip_, and it falls, surrendering to inescapable gravity. My stone cells soaked her up.

We were in Bella's bed, her yielding, cocooned body underneath me, and it was pushing two o'clock in the morning. It took a while to reach this level of controlled intensity. Perhaps it was the rain dashing against the roof that put the imagery of water in my mind. Perhaps it was because I was soaked through when I got here.

If the heat on my body's surface was like water – clean, refreshing, invigorating – the heat in my throat was raw fire. My every sense was heightened when I was like this with Bella, including scent. The sweet flavor scorched me with each quick breath, though it held no temptation for me. It was simply the price I paid for her presence, her love. It was an easy bargain. I breathed her in.

I rose up higher on my elbows, meeting her wide, melted-chocolate eyes. Her pulsed stuttered before resuming its quick pace. My eyesight was perfect already, but the _feeling_ her adoring gaze gave me was heightened in this moment. That warmth penetrated, reaching all the way to my chest to swell my heart. How could this beautiful angel, this exquisite creature of soft perfection, be for me? Wretch though I was, Bella loved me. Impossible, but somehow true.

Shifting my weight to one side, I reached out, caressing her cheek with my hand. She closed her eyes, leaning into my touch. "I love you," I murmured. I could tell it to her every moment of every day, and it would still be less than what she deserved.

Bella turned her head, kissing the palm of my hand, and then lifted her gaze to mine. Her silent mind was always full of endless mystery, but her inviting eyes promised to let me in on her secrets. It might take an eternity, but that was precisely how long we would have. "Tell me," she breathed.

"Yes?"

Her deep, inviting eyes turned pleading. "Tell me what you love about me."

I could feel my lips quirk up in a smile. "What's not to love?"

She scowled, unsatisfied by my teasing, and I caressed her cheek again; it was burning in embarrassment. "This," I said, referring to her blush.

I lowered my head, lowered myself against her, and brushed my lips over her ear. "Your courage." A vampire was pinning her to her bed, his razor-sharp teeth hovering over her pulsing throat, and she felt nothing but trust and love. How could I _not_ admire that in her?

"Your ability to love." Beyond reason, beyond hope, beyond every barrier, she loved me. I doubted I would ever overcome the awe of it.

"How very…well…good you are."

She huffed skeptically, and I rose up on my elbows to look at her again. "Trust me, Bella. I may not hear your thoughts, but I've heard enough of others' to know how rare it is for someone to be as kind and selfless as you are."

The blush deepened and she rolled her eyes.

"Your loyalty, your intelligence – especially that, your perceptive intuition. Shall I go on? I'll be here until dawn, you know." There were other things she wouldn't want me to mention – her endearing fury, her clumsiness, her charming inability to lie.

Something about the tightening of her eyes and the set of her mouth made me think she _did_ want me to go on. Like there was something specific she was wanting, but I hadn't said it yet. Even after a year and a half without being able to hear her thoughts, it was still frustrating to have to _guess_ what she was thinking.

I pressed my lips to the hollow at the base of her throat. "Your scent," I murmured, delighting in the slight shiver and the goosebumps my cool breath inspired.

I lifted my head, resting my cheek against hers. The heat of her blush washed over me. "Your warmth."

"But…."

I waited, but she didn't say anything more, and when I moved my head to read her expression, she tried to distract me with a kiss. I had to admit, it was a pretty effective distraction. Rough as velvet, her soft lips whispered over mine, the scorching in my throat made stronger by the moist heat of her breath. I opened my mouth ever so slightly to savor her scent, and she kissed my lower lip, her soft skin tugging lightly against mine. With a sharp hiss of pleasure, I pulled away. I _swear_ the girl had a death wish.

"Your utter lack of self-preservation," I added, smiling at her unfocused eyes. After all, I thought with grim humor, my love would stop her heart before the end of the summer, so the death wish was a good thing from that angle.

When she was able to focus on me again, I prompted, "But?"

"Never mind," she said, wrapping her arms around my neck and kissing me again.

I groaned, wondering if she were intentionally torturing me. Two could play that game. I rolled, pulling her – blankets and all – onto my chest and kissed her mercilessly. The corner of her jaw. Her neck, from her chin to the top of her shoulder. Lifting her slightly, I pulled her up so I could reach the soft, sensitive skin below her shoulder. She was gasping as she unnecessarily propped up her torso, her hands balled into fists on either side of my head. Her pulse filled my mind, making me feel almost alive myself. And then I paused, my lips hovering half-way between her throat and the lowest point of her collar. "But?"

Her breath was gusting in and out, and it was a testament to my self-control that I kept my eyes studiously looking up.

"But what?" she gasped.

"What else do you want to know, Bella?" I pleaded softly, using my most persuasive tone. _What else __can I give you? You want something, stubborn girl, but you won't let me give it to you._

She looked down to meet my gaze, her mahogany hair spilling around our faces like a concealing curtain. "I wanted to know what you love about me. You told me." She rained soft, little kisses over my face. My skin was almost warm now, after two hours near her radiant heat. "Thank you," she murmured. "I love you, too. So much."

I returned her kiss whenever our lips met, but my mind was elsewhere, analyzing every word that had passed between us. I'd told her things I loved about her soul, about her humanity. That was when she objected. Those weren't the things she wanted to hear, or at least, they weren't _all_ she wanted to hear. But what else was there?

_Oh._

I chuckled as the pieces fell into place, and she rolled away and onto her back, leaving me still draped in her bed linens. "You meant _physically_, didn't you."

"I said never mind." But the hurt was there in her voice, and she shifted onto her side to face the wall. She was hiding. Embarrassed. Why? Because she thought I didn't find her physically attractive?

How could she possibly be this oversensitive? I'd made it clear how I felt about her. I'd been willing to throw away my last shred of virtue for her body. And then I remembered those early days when she misinterpreted or underestimated every gesture of affection I'd offered. To me, and to an objective observer, I'd made my desire painfully transparent, but Bella never saw herself clearly.

This was dangerous territory, confessing what I loved about her physically, but it was unbearable to leave her hurting over such a ludicrous misunderstanding. I placed my hands behind my head, staring up at the ceiling. As long as I didn't _touch_ her, I could probably do this. I drew a deep, steadying breath and tried to forget that the body I was longing for was less than a foot away from me.

"I love your eyes, Bella. They captivated me from the moment we met each others' gaze across the cafeteria." I mentally groaned at how adolescent and downright silly that sounded. It should have been a ballroom or a fine restaurant, but that's not what fate had given us. "When I fled to Alaska, all I could see was your eyes, ever-present in my mind."

"What do you love about them?" she asked in a small voice.

"The depth," I easily answered. "They're my only avenue to truly know what you're thinking and feeling. I can see all the way to your soul in them. I love the way they dance when you're happy, the way they tear up when you're angry, and the way they glow when I kiss you."

She waited expectantly, huddled in a ball as far away from me as possible on the bed. I risked releasing one hand to tuck the top sheet and blankets in around her again. Then I returned to my former, disciplined pose.

"I love your legs. You have beautiful legs, Bella. Pale and shapely but not over-muscled. So much skin, so often hidden. Very feminine."

"What about my knees?" she wondered sheepishly, a hint of humor in her voice.

"Hmm," I purred. "Your knees I've had to adore from afar. I've wondered if you're ticklish there, but I've never dared to find out because, if I were bold enough to touch your knees, I was sure my hands would wander to places no gentleman would go."

She breathlessly giggled, and I smiled at the ceiling, still not daring to even look her way. Not when I was thinking along these lines.

"I'd be a liar if I said I didn't appreciate your…feminine curves." Engaged or not, I couldn't bring myself to directly compliment her bust.

"What…?" She made a choking sound, and I felt the bed wiggle with her laughter. I was terrified she'd ask me to specify which curves I meant, but she spared me that. "What do you like about them?"

She'd never believe me if I told her that they only enhanced her graceful figure, so I settled for, "They match you perfectly. Not attention grabbing, because I know how you feel about that, but impossible to ignore, as well."

She rolled over to face me, poking me in the ribs. "Like I said before, you're too good of a liar."

Still careful to not look her way, I feigned indignity. "Are you questioning my sincerity, Miss Swan?"

"I most certainly am, Mr. Cullen."

Bella _sounded_ like she wasn't serious, but I didn't dare risk misinterpreting her tonight. I turned my head, taking in her dancing eyes, her warm smile. I desperately wished I could show her just how much I worshiped her body. Just over a week now, and these barriers of morality and circumstance would be gone. Eight days, and I could make _her_ appreciate how delightful her body was, too.

The shift in her expression gave me half a second's warning, and then she all but launched herself at me. Kissing me desperately, her hands slid down the sides of my face, and I could smell the tears on her cheeks. She was _crying_? I could only half-wonder why because now I was reciprocating everything Bella was giving me. Except the tears, of course.

"Thank you, anyway," she murmured around my kisses. "For lying."

"I wasn't…" But she fought me, trying to kill my protests by drawing her tongue over my lips. I shuddered and gritted my teeth, not daring to part them to speak.

The tears worried me – they always did. I shifted up onto my side, trying to give myself an avenue of escape if necessary. However, Bella was not content with that. She wrapped her arms around my neck and followed the momentum, pulling me on top of her as she rolled onto her back.

Suddenly, all those minor details – escape, her tears, my soul – didn't matter because all I could do was _feel._ Warmth rising around me. Soft hands gripping my arms with all their human strength. Inviting lips enthusiastically meeting mine. Her lips parted, and I drifted from her mouth to her throat, moved by the _only_ concern that could reach me now – her safety.

I left a meandering trail of kisses from her chin to her collar – aware as always of her especially-soft skin there – and then up to the top of her shoulder. Her pulse was thundering so powerfully that she trembled with it. In more than a hundred years, I'd never felt more alive.

I sat up on one elbow, but Bella wasn't looking at me. Her eyes were closed, her chin tilted up, and she was gulping air. Her cheeks were flushed and there was a hinted sheen of sweat on her neck. She was utterly, heartbreakingly beautiful.

Was this what she would look like when we made love?

We needed to calm down. _I_ needed to calm down. I shouldn't be thinking like this. We still had more than a week before the wedding. She opened her eyes, catching me staring, and the invitation in them silenced me.

Bella shifted onto her side, facing me. I should have pulled away. When she reached for me, I should have caught her hand and told her we were done for the night. Instead, I let her touch me, her soft hand resting on my neck. There was wonder in her smile as she leaned closer, pressing her lips to mine again.

I moaned softly. There was no resisting her.

Her hands explored me again, sliding down my spine to linger in the small of my back. Her fingers traced idle loops and circles, each pass inching a little lower until she reached the edge of my clothes. I was on fire, burning _everywhere_. And then she trailed the back of her fingernails up my spine.

I shuddered, and she giggled against my lips. "You liked that?" she murmured through her kisses.

"What do you think?" I softly growled.

Bella giggled again, trailing her fingertips and fingernails over my chest. Her hand slid down my stomach to catch in the waistband at the front of my jeans. Was she really…?

"Bella," I panted. The sound was downright embarrassing for a creature that didn't need oxygen.

In answer, her hand slid back up my chest as she continued kissing me, but the damage was done. I'd wanted her before. I'd hovered on the brink. It was nothing remotely like what I felt now. _She wanted me._ She'd reached for me. Her hands had just crossed a line for us, and that motion had officially sent me over the edge. I slowly crept down the bed, every inch away from her a struggle.

I anticipated the hurt in her eyes. "I'm sorry, Edward."

"_I'm_ sorry, Bella. I…" I tried to find the words, tried to tell her that I had to leave. I couldn't speak them. I wildly looked around the room before meeting her gaze again. All I could think, all I could speak, was the truth. "I…I…_crave_ you."

There. It was fully in her hands now. Consequences be damned.

Bella's mouth fell open and her eyes widened. The hurt melted into surprise and then a hunger all her own. It was like watching her blush that first day in Biology. I gritted my teeth and locked down my body, fighting my very carnal impulses.

"Go," she said softly, swallowing hard.

"I won't be far," I promised in a whisper. "Just outside."

Her heart-rate accelerated. "Go," she repeated, urgent now, and I realized she felt it, too, the change she had accidentally wrought between us. I did as she ordered and fled out the window.


	31. Seven

In the quiet safety of the Volvo, I said, "Are you staying tonight?"

We hadn't spoken about what had happened last night – not this morning over breakfast, not on the car ride to his house, not through the long day and vampire history lesson. Edward didn't answer until we turned on to the dark highway. "Do you want me to?"

I knew getting panicky would not be helpful. If I did, he'd indulge in his second-favorite pastime of beating himself up over leaving me. (Worrying about me was apparently the favorite, but not by much.) If I overdid it, then he'd try to distract me. So I looked him square in the eye and simply said, "Yes."

He pressed his lips into a thin line and looked ahead again. It made me worried when he concentrated on the road. His crazy driving still terrified me, but if he was watching where he was going, it meant he was trying to _not_ look at me. Whatever his reason for avoiding my gaze, it couldn't be good.

Exhaling sharply, he said, "I'm so sorry, Bella."

"For what?" Despite my best efforts, the panic started to creep in. Was he sorry he told me those things? That he let us get so intense? I wasn't.

When he turned his golden eyes on me again, the warmth there surprised me. "For not trusting you." The words began to fall swiftly from his lips, making it hard to understand them all. "I basically put you in charge of being the responsible one, and then I failed you. I'd promised myself I wouldn't leave you again. I wanted to be strong enough to stay with you no matter what you threw at me, and I cracked last night. And now, you want me to stay and I'm…struggling with what you want."

It hadn't been easy to let him go last night – it was all but impossible – but it had felt like the right thing to do. "So you think what? That I'll just want to pick up where we left off? Because we left off with you outside in a cold rain shower."

That won me a crooked smile, and my heart reacted, of course. "Forgive me," he said formally. "What _is_ it you want?"

"Your soul," I answered tenderly. "I'm the one who should be saying sorry. I shouldn't expect you to single-handedly keep yourself in check _and_ control my crazy human hormones."

He reached out, taking my hand in his. "You have nothing to apologize for."

We rode in silence the rest of the way to Charlie's house.

He killed the engine and, still looking out the windshield, softly said, "My only real regret is that I never had a chance to hear what you love about me."

I grinned, knowing I was forgiven and had nothing to fear, and leaned over to give him a quick kiss. Charlie would be watching us through the living room window. "See you in an hour," I answered, promising him with my eyes that he wouldn't carry that regret much longer.

…

While we waited for Charlie to fall asleep, I lay in bed, looking at my ring and wondering what it was I _really_ wanted. Edward, undoubtedly. Eternity with him. But was it enough to override wanting him _right now_? And were they mutually exclusive – eternity and now? Another false dilemma?

When he'd told me in the meadow that he needed me right then, it had been part of the seduction. Not that I doubted his words, but he was still in control. Last night, though…. The image of him standing beautiful and shirtless at the foot of my bed, the need raw and wild in his eyes, was forever burned into my brain. And _I_ had told _him_ to leave. It was what he wanted, I knew – a way out to keep himself from doing something that we both knew he'd regret.

But would I have regretted it? I pursed my lips, considering. Yes, I decided. I would have because he would. I would have hurt him, hurt his soul. I couldn't live with myself if I did that. This time, I really did only have two choices, and I knew which one was the right one.

Edward materialized a little while later, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. He was wearing a knit shirt – no buttons. That saddened me, but I didn't comment on it. Besides, pullovers had the greater potential for easy access.

"Come here," I invited.

He crawled into bed with me and I wrapped my arms around his ribs, resting my head against his chest. He held me in his arms and kissed the top of my head. I was home.

We lay like that for a long time, just enjoying the feeling of being close. A new awareness crept across my skin everywhere he touched me. We'd been so careful for so long – and we'd have to be even more careful now – but last night made it crystal clear that there was reason for all this rehearsing. And a point at which the rehearsing would become reality.

My mind was drawn back to the day in the kitchen where I held the two magnets in my hand, trying to make them touch and thinking they were stubborn like Jacob and Edward. This time, it was like the magnets were reversed – attracting instead of repelling. How close could I push those two magnets before they moved on their own, jumping together? If Edward and I were the magnets, then last night had done it, but the attraction was greater now. It was easier for those two magnets to get a mind of their own.

If we were really going to behave until the wedding, we'd have to be even more careful, more cautious than we had been before. We'd have to be less intense. As if Edward and I could be alone in the same bedroom and have it _not_ get intense. How could we possibly make it through the next week? I really didn't want him to stay away at night, but I was so _aware_ of him.

As much as I hated to admit it, it was getting harder to be good with every heavenly-scented breath. I needed to back off – literally. With a deep, annoyed sigh, I sat up and climbed over him. Standing beside the bed, I snatched up the afghan and wrapped it around my shoulders. Then I crossed to the rocking chair and settled down, cross-legged.

Edward watched me curiously and maybe with just a hint of hurt. "Something wrong?"

Conversation – that was what I needed. And to sit far enough away for that magnetic pull to be a little weaker. "You said you wanted to know what I love about you."

The hurt faded into surprise. "I did."

"Well," I said, leaning back and thinking for a moment, "I love you for your determination to do what you think is right." I threw him a glare as an afterthought. "Though it annoys me to death sometimes."

He smiled.

"I love that you're such a gentleman." And then I thought of all the times I'd wished he _wasn't_ such a gentleman. "Though it annoys me to death sometimes."

"I love it when you dazzle me, though – "

"I'm sensing a pattern here," he interrupted with an impish grin.

I smiled back and then sobered. "I love how safe I feel with you," I said softly. "Not…from you because I'm not afraid to begin with but from all the craziness that somehow seems to always find me. I love that you're strong – as strong as I need you to be." When I glanced over to see how he'd react to that, his expression was thoughtful. Good. He was always beating himself up over being a vampire, but there were so many times when a human Edward wouldn't have been able to save me.

"I love how…beautiful you are."

He rolled his eyes at that one, no doubt chalking that up to vampire enhancements, so I confessed, "The first time I saw you and your family, I couldn't decide who was more beautiful, you or Rosalie."

Edward's face went blank for a split second, and then he eyed me skeptically.

"It's a very masculine beauty," I hastily assured him.

"But…"

I blushed, realizing what he was asking. Had I really put him through this last night? Taking a page from his book, I closed my eyes and envisioned the physical perfection that was Edward.

"Like I said, from the very first moment, I thought your face was beautiful. Remember when you first brought me to the meadow and you pressed my hand to your face? I'd been dreaming of touching you like that, of exploring the planes and curves of your face for weeks."

I risked a glance, and Edward was looking almost…nostalgic. Then he lifted his eyes to mine and instantly the pull began in my chest, drawing me to him again. I looked away.

"Your eyes," I said quickly, before he could make too much of that. "They were my first clue into what you are, and they're so…so…expressive." Especially when he was…craving me, but I wasn't stupid enough to say that. We were walking the line as it was. "Smoldering, angry, thirsty, wary – your whole soul is visible through your eyes." I risked another glance, and this time he was amused; it made the pull a little weaker.

"I guess we have something in common there," he said.

I grinned. "I guess so."

"But…?"

I blushed scarlet this time. I didn't make him drag this out, did I? He'd volunteered everything. He'd been perfectly honest, right down to telling me he craved me. And I wasn't being fully honest. That's what he was calling me on.

I sighed in resignation. "You have sexy hair."

He actually snorted and laughed at that one, and I indignantly said, "It's true! It's the most human part of you."

"And that makes it sexy? I would have cut it, but Carlisle talked me out of it. It's a perpetual mess."

"Precisely," I said, feeling defensive now. "You're always in such tight, careful control of yourself, but your hair is…not."

He was thoughtful now.

"It just screams wild and impulsive. Trust me. Sexy hair." I sighed again, determined to be perfectly honest, no matter how embarrassing. "And then there's your chest," I mumbled, eyes squeezed shut because I am such a coward.

When I didn't say anything else, he prompted, "What about my chest?"

"In case you haven't noticed, I like…the feel of your chest. The smooth skin, lithe muscles."

"I've noticed," he murmured with only the slightest hint of amusement, and the magnetic pull intensified again.

I wasn't strong enough, yielding ever so slightly. Hiding my face in the afghan, I whispered, "I crave you, too."

He didn't answer, and I internally cringed. He'd asked. He deserved to know I felt the same way about him. I was just being as honest with him as he'd been with me. But this was different from last night – everything was different. What we felt for each other, what I kept imagining in my happy place, was close enough that we could feel it. The line between rehearsing and…the real thing was getting narrower. And easier to cross. How could we walk the line when it kept _moving_?

I seriously needed to lighten this moment, or make Edward leave again, which I just couldn't bring myself to do. And then I remembered him complimenting my…er…feminine curves, and decided a little revenge couldn't hurt. "And I love your butt."

Edward made a little choking sound that had me grinning with a very satisfied smile. I opened my eyes to see his reaction. _Gotcha!_

"It's just so _hot_," I gushed, enjoying this way too much; it was _way_ too much fun to make an angel squirm. "Such a nice, inviting shape to it. I have to keep stopping myself; I always want to give your cheeks a _squeeze_."

The look of horror on his face was priceless, and I busted up laughing. "Do I sound like Jessica yet?"

"Disturbingly so," he answered, still looking vaguely shell-shocked.

I crossed the room to sit beside him on the bed, the odd snigger still breaking through. "Seriously, though," I said, taking his hands in mine. "It takes a lot to distract me away from your face. If I'm ever lucky to get that far, I'm captivated by your finely-chiseled chest. Your butt is safe."

"That's a relief," he chuckled and then pulled me down beside him on the bed again. I settled in, and he wrapped his arms around me. "Thank you."

"For what?" I asked.

"For being honest with me

"My pleasure."

Edward pressed his lips to my temple and softly said, "It's late, love. You should sleep now." He was feeling it, too, the pull.

Did I dare push the line? "Kiss me to sleep?"

"Bella."

"Yeah," I sighed, resigned. "You're right." I closed my eyes and snuggled closer.

Edward began humming my lullaby, but I was too wound up. He could feel the tension in my shoulders, and after a few minutes, he gave up. "How about a backrub first?"

"That sounds just about right."

He easily climbed over me and I rolled onto my belly. Of course I was aware of his hands on my body. Even before last night, I'd been particularly aware of his touch when he gave me a backrub. But he was no-nonsense this time. Instead of exploring or experimenting, Edward's hands moved with sure strength, working at the tension in my shoulders and upper back until I was limp. I did my best to be good, too, carefully _not_ letting my imagination run away with me. It took a lot of effort.

When I was mellow enough for his liking, Edward knelt beside the bed. "Now sleep, Bella."

"Cuddle me?"

With a soft smile, he climbed into bed with me and held me close, again humming for me. With his angel's song in my ears, I finally was able to drift to sleep.


	32. Six

I stood just inside Bella's bedroom, leaning against her window sill. She lay in her bed, her eyes closed, her scented hair draped across her pillow. She was the very image of beauty, waiting without the slightest fear for me to arrive. So inviting. It had been very difficult to keep things casual last night, even with her going out of her way to be good. I wasn't sure I could do it again.

She opened her eyes, finally sensing me there, and a smile pulled at her lips. "Hey."

"Hello," I greeted her in return. Already the craving was tugging on my will. I gave her a speculative look. "Alice says it's going to be a gorgeous night – clear skies with a waxing moon. Care to go for a run?"

Her smile became a grin and, flipping back the covers, she jumped out of bed. "Sure!" She quickly pulled on her shoes, and I told her, "Bring a sweater or a light jacket." I didn't want her to get chilled from the wind while I ran.

She nodded, pulling on a hoodie, and stood hesitantly in front of me. I burned with the warmth of her proximity and my memory. Less than one week, I reminded myself. Six days. We only had to behave for six more days. Leaning in for a quick kiss, I scooped her up in my arms and sprang through the window. She buried her face against my shoulder during the slight drop, but her eyes were dancing with excitement when I set her on her feet. It had been a long time since we ran for the pleasure of it. "Hop on," I said, turning and crouching down a little bit. Bella climbed up onto my back, enfolding me in her warmth. Did she even realize what she was doing to me? After the incident with the backrub, I knew she must have some idea.

Just six short days. I could control myself that long.

I took off into the night-hued forest. It was uncharacteristically bright under the canopy – streaks of silver in addition to the cool blue shadows and warm lavenders of midnight. I ran slower than I would have alone – I had to avoid the branches that would whip at her arms or the obstacles that would jar her as I jumped over them. It was a leisurely pace that I used only with her, when we had nowhere in particular to go and were running for the sheer pleasure of being together.

Thirteen minutes of running brought us to the place I'd chosen. Just south of the Quileute treaty line was a rocky outcropping, and I stopped there, carefully gathering Bella off my back and setting her on her feet beside me. Her eyes were wide as she took in the view before us, and I wondered what her human senses could perceive. I could see the midnight-blue trees rolling like a rough carpet to the sea almost eight miles distant. In the bright moonlight, the whitecaps on the ocean glittered like silver and diamonds and the moored ships bobbed like toys in the surf. Life rustled in the forest around us, the soft breeze sighed against the summer leaves, and the waves caressed the shore with a soft, rhythmic hissing. The smell of brine and earth flavored Bella's floral scent. And as ever, her radiant heat beat against me with every pulse of her heart.

A quiet tension flowed between us like the night breeze. When I'd suggested this, I was thinking about avoiding the temptation of her bedroom. But here, in the peaceful stillness, I was acutely aware that we were completely alone. Unchaperoned.

"It's beautiful," she breathed.

"I thought you might like it."

She glanced up at me, her melted-chocolate eyes warm in the cool light, and I wavered. Hands in my pockets, I leaned closer to her, and her warmth washed over me, stronger and starker here in the cool forest. She turned, lifting her face to mine, and my lips brushed once over hers. How I craved her!

She leaned into me, too, devastatingly-gentle fingertips trailing down my face, the warmth pulling a sigh from my soul. My hands slipped out of my pockets of their own accord, resting on her hips.

Her breath quickened and she looked down, a silent admission that her control wasn't strong enough, either.

We couldn't touch each other without the temptation flaring between us. Needing a little distance, I stepped away and sat down on the stone overlook, letting one leg dangle over the edge.

Bella stood for a moment longer, catching her breath before joining me. Nestling up against my chest, she sat on the ground between my legs, staying well away from the edge. She studiously avoided my gaze, looking instead over the panorama in front of us.

I stroked her mahogany hair, treasuring her nearness. Trying to distract us both away from this craving, I said, "I first discovered this when we were living in Hoquiam. When we drew up the treaty, I made sure this was on our side of the line."

"What was it like?" she softly asked. "Meeting them for the first time?"

Assuming she didn't mean the people of Hoquiam, I looked at the pristine forest around us, remembering. "Carlisle had met the wolves once before, of course, so he recognized them for what they were. And they recognized us."

Three of them against us five – I could hear the fear in their minds back then, the knowledge that they would die for their tribe and that it wouldn't be enough to stop us. It was a chaotic moment of confusion and worry and aggression, but I clearly remembered the fleeting respect I felt when I realized they wouldn't back down. They would protect their people or die trying.

"It was tense. Carlisle spoke to them in their native tongue, and that caught their attention, slowed them down enough to let them see the difference in our eyes. The only time I've felt similarly was when the pack came to watch us train in the ball field. The shock of seeing something so…primal – it reduces us all to instinct. Only Carlisle could have diffused the situation, Carlisle who had so completely mastered his own instincts."

I gave her a wry smile. "So now we demons share the woods, just like in any other horror story."

"Or fairytale," she corrected with a heart-melting smile. Looking back over the forest and ocean before us, she said, "Thank you so much for showing me." Her warm eyes again seemed to glow in the white light of the moon. Love shone in them, as breathtaking as it was undeserved. Dazzling. Brushing her soft hair away from her face, I pressed my lips to hers. With a soft hum of pleasure, she surrendered again and returned my kiss, her warm hands sliding up my neck to tangle in my hair. Her lips whispered over mine.

I breathed her in, so incredibly _aware_ of her – warm, soft, yielding, breakable, desirable. Cupping her face in my hands (rock hard, too-strong hands), I kissed her again, giving in by inches. I should push her away, should end this. But I wasn't strong enough, lost in her as I was.

"We really shouldn't be doing this," Bella finally murmured.

Kissing a vampire was perilous under the best of circumstances, but here, in the stillness, with desire humming between us like electricity, it was a _very_ bad idea. "Probably not," I agreed, my arm around her waist tightening.

She shifted, pressing her body closer to mine, never breaking our kiss. "Let's go," she murmured, her lips whispering over mine as she spoke.

I could feel her soft curves against my chest – my breath quickened. "Ladies first."

She chuckled as her lips wandered over my jaw. "You're always such a gentleman."

I tilted her chin up, trailing kisses over her supple skin. "You deserve nothing less."

Her fingers drifted forward, ghosting across my cheek with the warmth of her blood and love. My breath was gusting softly against her throat, and she shuddered.

"I'm sorry," I said, releasing her and leaning away.

"I'm not," she murmured, leaning heedlessly in for another kiss. Her hands drifted forward over my shoulders to fiddle with the buttons on my shirt.

"Bella…"

Her mouth moved over mine. "Hmm?"

She was already working on the third button, and I couldn't find it in me to resist her. She didn't bother with the rest, just sliding her hands over my ribs as soon as she could. Warm echoes meandered over my skin like trickles of water – echoes of our passion two nights ago sinking deep into my soul.

"Bella."

Heat from her blush blossomed in the cool night air between us. "Sorry," she mumbled, pulling her hands away but kissing the edge of my jaw.

I chuckled weakly. "I'm not." I ran my fingers through her hair, whispering, "But you're wrong. I'm a monster. A horrible monster who spirited you away in the middle of the night."

The warm skin of her fingers caressed my face again – feather-light, molten touches. "I'm completely at your mercy," she agreed, sounding not the least bit worried.

I carefully held her glass-fragile face, giving us both a little breathing room. The sound of her heart thundered in my ears. "It really is time to go home now."

She nodded, but the sadness and chagrin in her eyes almost made me change my mind. My hands on her face slid down the collar of her hoodie. "Soon, love."

"Six more nights," she wistfully agreed, stroking my face.

I caught her hand and kissed her delicate wrist, struck yet again by her total trust. "An eternity." But I wasn't supposed to let her know that. "I've waited an eternity for you," I quickly corrected. I would not allow myself to dwell on how deeply I craved her. "What's another six nights?"

"An eternity," she answered, and the knowing look in her eyes told me she'd caught my inadvertent admission.

I rose to my feet and offered her my hand to help her up. "Let's take you home."

She nodded, a longing light in her eyes as she placed her hand in mine.

Again her warmth enveloped me as I swung her onto my back, the heat of her quick pulse soaking into my skin through the thin layers of cloth that separated us. That warmth was even more tempting than her scent, though for entirely different reasons. I ran through the moonlit midnight forest, forcing myself to focus on the obstacles that might harm her and to ignore the feel of her cheek's soft skin pressed against my neck.

Six more nights.

It was almost a relief when we arrived in her bedroom. Knowing that Charlie was nearby eased some of this impossible tension. Bella shivered as I set her on her feet and I bundled her up in the afghan. It insulated some of her warmth, holding it against her and away from me – a little. "You're chilled."

"I'm fine," she insisted, and I couldn't help but smile.

Taking her by the hand, I led her to her bed and flipped back the covers for her. "You'll warm up under the blanket."

But she didn't let go of my hand, instead pushing me toward her bed. "You first, so I know you won't be running away on me tonight."

"That one is entirely yours to decide," I impishly reminded her as I climbed on top of the covers. "I stay or go on your say-so."

Curling up under the blanket with her hoodie still on, she cuddled up to me. "Stay."

Kissing her brow, I whispered, "Forever."


	33. Four

The "before car" lurched down the familiar half-hidden drive like a wounded animal, alternately fish-tailing as the path curved around a large tree and spitting gravel out from under the tires when I tried to _gently_ accelerate. Talk about having a tiger by the tail. I was extremely grateful when I was finally close enough to the beautiful mansion that I could kill the engine.

I sat in the dim light – made dimmer by the window tinting – and looked at the house. The last time we'd had a major celebration here, the newborns just happened to coincidentally decide they were going to attack. The time before that, I'd been stupid enough to slice my finger open while encircled by vampires. No matter what Edward said, I had every good reason to be apprehensive about tonight's bridal shower. On the other hand, if something bad happened, maybe I could convince them all that a wedding would be just too much of a risk. That thought brightened my outlook considerably, and I got out of the car.

Edward was usually the first to greet me, so I was a little surprised I made it all the way to the dining room before I saw anyone. Esme was humming softly to herself as she arranged eating utensils on an elegant table. It was decorated with a sky-blue tablecloth and several vases full of roses and freesia.

From the kitchen, I heard a loud thud and somebody grumbling too quietly for me to understand.

The sight of rows upon rows of silver forks froze me in my tracks. "How many people did you invite to this thing, Esme?"

She looked up at me and smiled. "Thirteen people gave an RSVP, but Alice says we'll be closer to twenty."

"TWENTY?"

A crash and snarling from the kitchen made me jump.

Esme winced at the sound but her only response was to speak a little more loudly. "Well, Dr. Torres' son is sick and she's still trying to decide whether she should leave him home alone or not. So it could be nineteen. But that's including all of us."

I groaned. "And how many of them are bringing presents?"

Esme crossed the room and lightly rested her hands on my shoulders. "Bella, sweetheart, this isn't about presents, and everyone coming tonight knows that. It's a chance for our friends to celebrate the love you and Edward share."

I sighed heavily and repeated, "How many?"

"Eight," Alice called from the kitchen.

"Now stop pouting, human, and come here," Emmett ordered, though it came out kind of strangled somehow. Inexplicably, he was in the kitchen, too. With a mild frown, Esme turned and I followed her. It looked like a bomb had hit the room. A flour bomb, to be specific. Edward and Emmett froze mid-grapple when they saw Esme; they appeared to be ground zero.

I stared in disbelief. "What in the world?!"

Straightening, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity despite being powered head-to-toe in flour, Edward archly answered, "Emmett was trying to improve my cooking."

"He was going to surprise you with brownies," Emmett genially explained, obviously not caring about how silly he looked.

"Because he knew you would be too nervous to eat during the party," Alice added. She was balanced on the top of a step-ladder, retrieving gold-rimmed stemware from a high cupboard and placing them upside down on a tray.

"Let me guess how he knew that," I said, narrowing my eyes at my psychic soon-to-be sister.

"Guests will be here in an hour," Esme reminded them, crossing the kitchen to Alice and picking up the tray. Then she smiled at her sons in a way that was at once sweet and stern. "I want this place cleaner than when you started."

Alice lightly leapt down from the step-ladder and tisked at me. "You've got to be kidding me, Bella. Worn out jeans and floppy tennis shoes? And that _sweatshirt_."

"They'd have laces if _someone_ hadn't stolen them," I answered archly.

She ignored that, taking my hand to drag me up the stairs. "You are _so_ lucky that I'm an expert in emergency preparedness."

"Fashion emergencies?" I guessed.

"What other kind is there for a vampire?" she smirked.

In front of her bedroom door, she paused and hollered down the stairs, "She's not coming down until that flour is cleaned up, Edward! You're _not_ leaving white handprints all over her clothes! And Emmett, don't even _think_ about it!"

Then Alice dragged me into her luxurious, porcelain-and-tile dungeon and began the torture. "You could have at least _tried_ to do some of this yourself," she said as she applied my foundation.

"Why bother?" I grumbled. "You'd have just taken it all off and started all over again."

She hesitated, a mascara brush less than a half-inch from my right eye. "Good point."

I suffered in silence after that, but I didn't give her the satisfaction of seeing me enjoy it.

When my face was finally presentable, Alice danced to her closet and retrieved my attire for the evening – a deep-blue satin spaghetti-strapped sundress. It was so short it showed off my knees and a frightening amount of thigh. She was also apparently trusting that I had undiscovered grace and wouldn't rip the thing up the side when I made my grand entrance.

"Sheesh, Alice," I said weakly. "I may as well wear lingerie."

She silently contemplated that and then delicately snorted. "Edward would freak." At my confused look, she added, "Whisk you away and ruin all our plans for the wedding, selfish jerk."

I flushed deeply at the thought of Edward prematurely whisking me away to my happy place. I could live with that!

"Banish the thought, Bella. You'll regret it later. Trust me."

"Only because you'll _make_ me regret it."

She gave me her best evil-pixie grin. "That, too. Do you want to see, though?" she continued. "I didn't have it gift wrapped, just in case you wanted a preview."

"See what?"

"The lingerie."

Alice had to steady me as those two words made me stumble. Luckily, I hadn't started wriggling into the sundress yet. _Gift wrapped?_ Lingerie _gift wrapped?_ "You _didn't_."

"Bella, it's a _bridal shower._ It's not like you're going to be needing a coffee-maker. What else was I supposed to get?"

"ALICE! You are _NOT_ giving me lingerie tonight! Esme's going to be here! Carlisle's coworkers! The _minister's_ wife and _daughter!_" I was practically shrieking.

"Calm down, Bella. For crying out loud."

My voice dropped to a threatening hiss. It would have been so much more impressive if I had been actually able to follow through with any threat. "You are _not_ embarrassing me in front of everyone."

"Fine," she pouted, mumbling something under her breath. I thought I caught the words, "in private."

"What was that?" I snapped.

"Nothing. You'll just have to settle for seven and a half presents tonight, then." Her wide eyes were innocent. "We need just one more finishing touch, though…" And from the echoing recesses of her closet, she produced a silver tiara.

"You've _got_ to be kidding me."

Setting it on the bathroom counter, she picked up a brush and began styling my hair with vicious finesse. "I knew you'd never go for it during the wedding ceremony – and besides it would clash abominably with your gown – so tonight's the night you're a princess."

"Alice," I whined. "This isn't fair! You're making me look like Princess Di and you're wearing _cotton!_ I'll stick out like…"

"A supermodel," she finished for me. "And this is Yves Saint Laurent, so it's eighteen hundred dollars of cotton. Get over it."

If she was wearing a shirtdress that probably cost more than my motorcycle and truck put together, I didn't even want to _know_ how much my elegant straightjacket was worth.

"Best friends don't do this to each other," I sulked.

"How long have we known each other?" Alice pleaded.

I didn't answer, unsure if I should count her six-month absence when Edward went off the deep end and the entire family went AWOL.

"And how many times have I made you be the center of attention?"

"Prom. Birthday party. Grad party. Wedding – but that one counts for two whole months, because everyone's _always_ staring. I told you about those auto-philes I ran into yesterday."

"That's _Edward's_ fault, not mine."

"You honestly mean to say you didn't have anything to do with that – "

In the mirror, she mouthed, "Edward," and – realizing he could overhear us and not wanting to hurt his feelings – I substituted 'stupid hunk of junk' with " – ridiculous car?"

Alice unsubtly redirected the conversation. "Four times, Bella. That's it. Do you have any idea how many _optional_ celebrations there are surrounding weddings? Engagement parties, multiple showers, rehearsal dinners, bachelorette parties…" She actually held a moment of silence for the opportunities wasted before reaching for a bobby pin. "Do you have any appreciation for how much restraint I've shown? Four events in all the time we've known each other. This makes five. And I promise I won't do it again while you're mortal."

I briefly considered that. It would get me out of some outrageous bachelorette party, and I didn't think I would get a better deal. "Fine," I acquiesced with poor grace.

"Wise girl," she said, crowning me.

I scowled at the vampire in the mirror. "Bad things happen when everyone's looking at me."

"Not this time," she assured me, helping me to my feet so I could slide into my coordinating, overpriced shoes. "Edward's opening the presents."

"He'll be here?" Wasn't this a girly thing?

"Of course." She winked and then grandly gestured to me, her finished masterpiece. "This was my gift to Edward."

Feeling worlds better knowing he'd be with me, I walked down the stairs with Alice. After all, no matter how much she made me sparkle, if Edward was in the room, all female eyes would be on him.

...

The party wasn't as bad as I'd feared. Edward and I sat together in an oversized chair kidnapped from Carlisle's study, and just like I predicted, _he_ was the true center of attention. We played a stupid bridal-shower game of Jeopardy about me and Edward and the only time anyone really looked at me was when Edward kissed me; unfortunately (though blissfully), that happened quite often.

When it came time, Edward gallantly unwrapped the presents for me and handed them to me to oooh and ahhhh over – a whole year's worth of seasonally-themed kitchen linens for our new apartment, a long-distance phone card (since we were moving so far from home to go to college), an "Our First Year" scrapbook, a pair of foam boxing gloves and some edible massage oil (from Jessica, so we could enjoy fighting and making up), and a coffee-maker. Even the presents from the Cullens weren't too over the top – his and hers bath towels from Esme, a collage photo-frame from Rosalie and Emmett with pictures of me with Edward and the family, and last but not least…

Alice handed Edward a wrapped clothing box and I narrowed my eyes at her. Edward kissed me on the cheek and then leaned in, whispering, "It's okay. Trust me."

It's not like I had much of an alternative; besides, Edward had gone along with most of Alice's outrageous ideas. I gave him a defeated nod and he tore the silver paper off for me. Opening the box, I found a pair of deep-blue Capri-length tights with white-lace trim and a matching extra-long white tank top with blue lace accents. Okay, that was lingerie I could handle.

"Thanks so much, Alice!" I said sincerely, and I realized she'd only threatened me with the frilly stuff to make me appreciate how much she really had reined herself in. And if that wasn't sisterly love, I didn't know what was.

"You're welcome, Bella," she said, catching me in a tight but gentle hug. "My sister."

I grinned at her when she pulled away, and then Esme distracted everyone by inviting them into the dining room for cake. Then it was mingling and chatting until people ran out of time or things to say and had to leave, and all the while Edward had a hand on the small of my back and I leaned into his side. I realized I didn't mind parties so much if he was close like that. When the door shut behind the last guest, I breathed a sigh of relief. Not a single drop of blood shed, I didn't fall off my heels once, and nobody threatened war or invasion. "Well," I said to Alice in approval, "I'd say that was a success."

Edward, Alice, _and_ Esme looked at me in shock, and I blushed scarlet. "What?"

Fighting a smile, Alice reached up to pat me on the shoulder. "Nothing, Bella. We just didn't think you had it in you."

Esme chuckled and hugged me. "I'm delighted you enjoyed it, dear. Thank you for saying so." Then she moved at vampire speed to start cleaning up. Not too much longer, I thought, and I'd be able to keep up enough to help.

Edward took my hand and led me back to the living room to gather up our presents. "So which were your favorite?" he asked.

"Oh, the coffeemaker, definitely," I answered with a smirk. "I can see us using it for decades to come."

He gave me that breathtaking crooked smile. "Perhaps Charlie could put it to good use."

"He already thinks you're Mormon for not drinking," I pointed out. "Finding out you don't even grab the occasional latte wouldn't help."

He chuckled. "We could give it to him as a father-of-the-bride gift along with the take-out menus of every restaurant in town now that his chef is moving out."

I childishly stuck my tongue out at him. As we neared the top of the stairs, I added, "And the picture frame was really nice," hoping that Rosalie was where she could overhear. "What was your favorite?"

Glancing at me out of the corner of his eye, he said, "Alice's present."

I blushed hot again, and he chuckled, opening the door to his bedroom for me. We unceremoniously dumped the gifts onto the couch, and I eyed the gift box Alice had given me. Tights and a tank-top – that wasn't that much different from what I already wore to bed at night. We were trying to be good, but I couldn't help toying with the idea of wearing the outfit for pajamas tonight. A preview for my fiancé…. The thought sent me into dizzying fantasies my happy place.

And then suddenly I was _in_ my happy place – on Edward's bed, his perfect stone body hovering over me while his mouth moved hungrily over mine. Stunned, I tangled my hands in his hair, forgetting that, even in the privacy of his bedroom, we would have an audience with superhuman hearing.

Breaking the kiss long enough for me to inhale a sharp breath, he softly growled in my ear, "I meant the dress and tiara." Cold, thrilling kisses slowly trailed down my neck, leaving shivers of desire in their wake. Just above my collarbone, he paused and then lifted his head to meet my gaze. His caramel eyes burned. "Alice saw what you were planning. As much as I'd love it, please…_don't_."

My face burned in embarrassment and he pushed away from me to stand beside the bed, offering me his hand to pull me up to sitting and flashing his crooked smile. "I'm sorry," I mumbled as I unsteadily rose to my high-heeled feet, absentmindedly smoothing the skirt of my dress.

He chuckled, the sound low and throaty and very appealing. "It's not your fault that you're cursed with a psychic for a soon-to-be-sister-in-law and a mind-reader for a fiancé. I should be the one apologizing. Her vision caught me by surprise, but that's no excuse."

Before he could really start beating himself up, I reached up to rest my hand against his cheek. My wits were too scrambled for a clever comeback, so I simply said, "Soon."

Then the awful realization of what had transpired hit me and I shrieked, "ALICE! _Stop watching!_"


	34. Two

Author's Note: Here it is, the last full chapter of the fic. Wow! It's been a full year I've been working on this, and I'm almost sad it's complete now.

I've really enjoyed writing and sharing it. Thank you again to everyone who has reviewed this fic. When I'd hit a dry spell for writing, I'd go and re-read the reviews to cheer me up and give me some creative energy.

And, of course, an eternal thank you to my patient, insightful, and wonderful betas - Ish and Tersaseda! They've been with me through this whole process, and I literally would not have been able to finish this fic without them. Take a bow, ladies! :)

* * *

Two more nights.

Two.

Forty-eight hours. Less than that, now, and Bella and I would be on the plane. On our honeymoon. The warm yellow light glowing from Bella's bedroom window beckoned me to climb inside and squeeze in just a little more practice at desensitizing. After all, I couldn't be too careful.

Charlie's bed creaked as he tossed and turned, settling in for the night, but from Bella's room all I could hear was the faint sound of tearing paper. If she'd received the same envelope that I had today, this would make for an interesting conversation. I stood motionless under a pine with my hands buried in my pockets and clasping the hand-warmers until Charlie began to snore.

Bella was lying on top of the quilt reading a letter when I arrived, her beautiful eyes dancing over the page in her hand. "Your great-aunt is an interesting woman," I said casually as I joined her, laying beside her and pulling her against my chest.

"You read my mail again?" No 'hello' or an unintentionally-seductive smile, just narrowed eyes from my love.

I couldn't help but grin. "After all the death-glares you gave me over the college applications? Even vampires aren't immune to those. No, she sent me one, too."

Along with a letter explaining that we were too young to marry and that Bella and I were doomed because of her parents' divorce, Great-Aunt Margaret Hope had mailed me a series of questions that we crazy kids needed to consider before rushing head-long into marriage. She even included blank lines under each question so we could write in the answers.

Bella shuffled through the papers in disbelief. "There's, like, ten pages here."

"Ninety-seven questions."

Shaking her head, she said, "Do you know what my _Mom_ calls her? Nutty Meg."

"I don't know," I answered with what was, I was sure, a wicked grin. "Some of these are at least interesting if not actually pertinent."

"You think so?" she challenged, skimming over the page for a second or two. "Then let's see here…" In a deep, ominous voice, Bella intoned, "Number one. Why are you getting married?" She gave me a pointed glare. "Because you're bizarrely moral for a vampire."

I simply couldn't resist. "And because you crave my body."

She tried to ignore my comment, but her erratic heartbeat gave her away.

I smiled, feeling my own cravings stir, but we were trying to be good still. Two more nights, I reminded myself.

"Check." She dramatically cast aside the first page.

"Wait! There was another one there we need to discuss."

Confused, she picked the paper back up and glanced over it. When she looked up at me, I gazed into her deep eyes and said, "You can trust me with the truth, Bella. Do _you_ have a criminal record?'

She snorted. "Yeah. I'm in trouble with the law so much that I'm on first-name basis with the chief of police." Getting into this a little, she said, "Oh, and here's one just for you. 'How often do you drink?'"

When Bella first learned the truth, it had baffled me that she could be so casual about me being a monster; that she would joke about it just left me flabbergasted to this day. So I played along in her little comedy of the absurd. She was always free to back out, but I knew as well as she did that it was a bit too late for either of us to change our minds.

I shrugged. "Once every two weeks or so. You'll be the compulsive drinker for the first year of our marriage. I bet you average a few pints in a _good_ week."

She rolled her eyes and I chuckled.

"What about this one?" I pressed. "'What do you think we'll be doing in another thirty to forty years?'"

"Going to high school," Bella groaned. "Dang, that's a deal-breaker right there." She again tossed the first page onto the floor.

And I would have her in my life ten times – a hundred times – longer than that. As much as I wanted her to wait, the selfish part of me wanted her more. I kissed her hair, breathing in her scent, but she nudged me with her elbow. Trying to be good.

"Do you think we'll have problems with your family during the holidays?" she quoted from the second page.

I closed my eyes and let my lips brush over her ear as I murmured, "We'll be fine as long as your mom's too distracted to notice we're the same age every year…"

Her pulse was quicker, but she made no outward sign that I was affecting her. Everything about this woman was absurd sometimes. That page joined the first on the floor.

Fine, if she wanted to play it that way. I didn't even have to look at the page to recall what was on it. "Here's another important one," I cut in. "Am I a jealous person?"

"Don't even go there," Bella said, shaking her head. "How 'bout this? 'Do we listen to each other well?'"

Knowing why she picked that one to read, I innocently asked, "Does it count if I can't hear you?"

With another mock-dirty look, she tossed the third page on the floor and looked over the fourth.

"Hmm…which side of the bed will you sleep on?" Her glance darted my way and a hint of a blush warmed her face.

"Ladies first," I invited, and the rose of her cheeks deepened. What _was_ she thinking that would make her blush? Recalling Alice's vision a couple of nights before, I decided it was best for my self-control and sanity that I _didn't_ know.

"Well…the times I've slept in your bed…I was pretty much in the middle. And once I'm more durable, any fear or heights or whatever will be a non-issue, so…"

Fear of heights? And then I realized she thought we'd return from our honeymoon to my third-story bedroom. Did she really think that I wouldn't have something better planned for her – that our _family_ couldn't come up with a better plan than that if we put our heads together? Of course, she hadn't been present for Emmett's and Rosalie's honeymoons, so I could understand to some extent where she was coming from. Still, I didn't say anything since Esme had already decided that, whatever Bella's and my first house would be, the one guarantee was that it would be a surprise for Bella. "I'll take the right side," I offered, since that was the side I was currently on.

"Deal," she answered with a grin. "Chalk one up for Nutty Meg." Looking over the page again, she said, "Here's a critical one. 'How will we make sure we have quality time together?'"

"How about we don't sleep?" I deadpanned.

"Works for me," she purred. I hadn't meant that to be an innuendo, but her tone of voice triggered a pang of desire.

My tease of a fiancée was already reading the page in her hand again. She giggled at the next one. "Who will change the toilet paper roll?'"

With great dignity, I answered, "When I empty it, I'll change it."

She snorted and that page joined the growing pile on the floor.

"Oooh! Money management. Let's see… 'Do you want to have a budget?'"

"What's that?" I asked innocently. "Isn't it one of those human things?"

She fought a smile. "Hmm. 'Who is going to make sure the bills are paid on time?'"

After a beat, we simultaneously answered, "Esme."

"What are our future plans for buying a home?" Bella continued with a giggle.

I fished for an answer, trying to avoid telling her I already bought us a house in New Hampshire.

She came to my rescue as she tossed aside the page. "I know, how about we build a cute little 5000-square-foot cabin on my personal hunting grounds."

"Come on, Bella. You're almost a Cullen now. Dream big!" The cabin would be for her bookshelves.

She rolled her eyes. "And, of course, parenting. Don't need to worry about that one."

Most of this was just plain silly, but the casual way she discarded all the questions about children was shocking somehow. It was one thing to free her from the need for a budget. It was quite another to take away even the possibility of children. She didn't think she was losing much in trading humanity for immortality, but I was cutting an entire slice out of her life. It was sobering.

"Oh-ho! Religion. I think we've discussed this one pretty thoroughly." She tossed it aside and then her cheeks grew blood-hot as she read over the next page. _Can we talk about sex? Should we talk about sex? Are you comfortable discussing your sexual likes and dislikes?_

Bella flung the paper away and mumbled, "I think I know the answers to those."

Yes. Because, though I longed to hear what her sexual likes were, I wasn't sure that, even as her husband, I'd be able to casually discuss something so powerful.

Trying to get us back to a lighter mood, I said, "Don't forget the last page."

She looked over the questions and burst out laughing. "Do you expect or want me to change?"

"I love you just the way you are," I said with a quick peck.

"Yes," she giggled back at me, her melted-chocolate eyes dancing, "but I fully expect _you_ to change me, buster."

I took the page out of her hand and added it to the pile. "And, last but not least, 'How are we different?'"

Chortling, she kissed me back, and I was acutely aware of how different we were – flesh and stone, fire and ice, and, most importantly, male and female. "Maybe we should explore that one a little more thoroughly."

Her lips were too busy to answer, but her scorching fingers were already on the buttons of my shirt, all too eager to explore.


	35. Epilogue: Now

Author's Note: This is set during the honeymoon, in the early morning hours after Bella and Edward made love for the second time. Enjoy! :)

**

* * *

****Epilogue**

I lay with my hands clasped behind my head, watching as the ceiling slowly warmed with the light of dawn. Bella lay across my body – I burned where she touched me and itched with longing where she didn't. I'd thought last night, with the little rational part of my mind that had remained, that perhaps making love to her again would ease the longing for her that put thirst to shame. Impossibly, I wanted her even more this morning.

To think I had once considered it a torment when I had kept watch through her sleep, waiting for her to awaken with smiling eyes and stolen kisses. In retrospect, it had been simple – as easy as resisting the blood of a doe. Her bare skin beckoned now, radiating heat, and my entire body responded with warm echoes.

This was insanity. She was still so breakable. I would never be able to forget the look of her black-and-blue breasts, her lips swollen from my bruising kisses. Maybe, like so much of the other desensitizing, those images were part of what kept her safe last night. Well, safer, anyway. The woodchip scent of the pulverized headboard was ironically bland considering the violence the furniture had absorbed last night.

Bella's light snores stuttered and she shifted, her hand sliding up my bare chest. So help me, if she begged for more, I'd give it to her even if it meant waking her up. But as she had for the last week, she wordlessly slept. I would let her rest, then. Heal. Recover.

And when she awoke?

With her soft body against mine, I was acutely aware of how little it would take to arouse her again. A suggestive smile. Caressing her cheek and then letting my hand drift down in another fulfillment of so many fantasies. A single kiss – slow and tender to begin with – would thoroughly wake her. But she was human; she would need breakfast. She'd probably want a shower, too. And even though I couldn't see any bruises, I imagined she would be stiff at least. Her needs had to come first.

For a week, I'd kept my hands to myself. I could behave a few hours or days until she again initiated something more. It must always be her choice. I comforted myself that I probably wouldn't have to wait very long. Even with how badly I'd beaten her the first time, she'd been hinting she'd like "more practice" before the day was over. And I thought I was a masochist.

Last night had made the effort worth it – the humiliation of Alice seeing my failures, the struggle of desensitizing, the patient hours spent rehearsing. Last night, I'd finally given her the one human experience she wanted, untarnished by my weakness. I'd finally earned the faith and trust of my wife.


End file.
